In Visible Light
by punkydiva17
Summary: *Story Completed* Mike stared her in the eyes forlorn. "I'm a horrible, horrible person," he informed her, the shame washing in waves. She sighed, touching his face. "Don't. Stop. Nobody ever looks good under a microscope."
1. Chapter 1

Cristina Cannellucci sighed in frustration as she tucked a strand of her coffee-coloured hair behind her ears. From the moment she got out of bed that morning in her small, one bedroom apartment, she knew it was going to be a long day. Now, at not even eleven o'clock, she had already spilled coffee all over her favorite shirt, forcing her to rush back down the block to get changed before trying to start her journey all over again. Now, she was standing in the middle of a busy Los Angeles sidewalk with a broken high heel thanks to a LA grate.

"Ugh..._questo e ridicolo_," she muttered furiously, holding the broken heel in her hands.

Cristina had been in the United States for almost six months. She had come from Milan, Italy, the fashion capitol of the world. She learned very quick that the language barrier was difficult to get across. People always looked at her strangely as she tried to say the things she needed to, some telling her outright that they were having difficulty with her accent. She had taken a job as a rock music journalist for a little underground publication. She was happy to have the job, doing what she loved and hearing great new music as a result. She was on her way to interview a new band when her heel broke. She was already late as it was, lost and now with a broken shoe.

Today was shaping up to be one of the worst days of her life. She was already looking forward to tonight, when she could go home and relax. There was going to be a serious dose of symphonic metal, a hot bubble bath and a big glass of red wine to look forward to. Cristina felt she earned it after all of this.

Limping into the closest shoe store she could find, Cristina found herself a cheap pair of ballet flats. It wasn't really in her budget, but she had to get going and there was no way she could go home. She was supposed to be meeting up with a band called the Pacifier Puritans. The name made no sense to her, but she took the assignment without question. They were supposed to be an industrial/Gothic rock/progressive metal band. He had given her a few names that she had half-heard, because she knew she was only going to butcher them anyway.

Exiting the shoe store, she threw her high heels into the nearest trash can. She began to make her way down the street again, stopping when she felt discomfort on her ankles from the new shoes. She ran a hand through her hair and fought the urge to burst into tears.

"Excuse me, but you look lost."

Turning, Cristina looked into the face of a stranger. He was dressed in dark blue jeans and a Misfits T-shirt underneath a brown leather jacket. A dark plaid scarf finished the look. Sunglasses covered a good portion of his face. His sandy blonde hair was up in a small Mohawk. She nodded, grateful that someone was being nice to her.

"Yes...I am lost..." she mustered, reaching into her handbag for the address her editor gave her. He took it from her. "My editor...he gave this...I'm new..."

"I can tell by your accent. Italian?" he asked. She nodded, impressed.

"_Si_."

"I swear, Italy produces some of the most beautiful women in the world," he said with a grin. She couldn't help herself; a small giggle escaped. As quickly as it happened, Cristina began to beat herself up internally for displaying such behavior. He looked down at the address. "Oh, you're not that far away at all..."

"Cristina."

"Cristina. I'm Mike, but everyone calls me Miz." He shook her hand. He was impressed by her firm handshake, and vice versa. "I know where this is. Come on; it's a little out of my way, but I'll take you over there. May I ask what you're doing going over there? It's a pretty grungy dive bar."

"I'm interviewing band."

"Band...oh...are you a music critic?"

"Just interview."

"You speak English pretty well," Mike commented. He looked sheepish. "I'm sorry...that's a pretty dick thing to say."

She dismissed his statement with a wave. "It is fine. I take it as great compliment. I have been studying your language for over a year."

"That's impressive. Self-taught?" She nodded. "That's dedication. How long have you been here for?"

"Six months."

"Did you come out here for the job?" he asked. She nodded. They stopped in front of a dilapidated looking bar with a marquee that announced a few bands playing later that night. Nobody big, but Pacifier Puritans were the headlining act. Mike flashed her a smile and took off his sunglasses. She thought he had the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen.

"I travel a lot with work, so I'm not around a whole lot, but since you're new in town, why don't we exchange numbers? We can get together whenever I'm in town." Cristina studied him apprehensively. Her mother warned her to be wary. Mike sensed her reluctance and raised his hands in mock surrender. "I promise you I'm not a psychopath." She laughed.

"I am so desperate for friend, I don't care," she confessed, prompting them both to laugh. They exchanged numbers. Cristina offered him a sheepish and awkward thanks for helping her find her way and for offering to be her friend, and they said their goodbyes. Mike walked away, turning back to watch Cristina walk into the club.

* * *

><p>A couple hours later, he was still thinking about her.<p>

He couldn't stop. She was one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. A dark beauty. There was an aura to her. Cristina was curvy in all the right places and she had been dressed nicely in a pair of black pants and a white button down shirt with several necklaces hanging around her long, swan-like neck. She was tanned and lovely, with a beautiful smile that could catch him off-guard.

Mike had a girlfriend, so he knew it was kind of a bad thing to give her his number. Maryse wasn't the understanding type when it came to Mike having female friends. But he could see she was desperate for a friend, alone in a new country far away from home. Despite his on-screen persona as an arrogant, brash jerk, Mike was a guy who actually wanted to see people happy and wanted to do the right thing. He was the life of the party, a guy who always wanted to make others feel included. Unfortunately for everyone, what they saw on television was what they got out of Maryse. It didn't faze him, though; he loved her all the same.

It was a beautiful day in LA, with _WrestleMania _looming on the horizon. He was going to be in the main event for the first time in his career, walking into the main event as the champion. Words couldn't express how excited he was. Movie star and former WWE wrestler Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson was going to be hosting the pay-per-view event, and _Jersey Shore _reality starlet Nicole "Snooki" Pollizzi was going to be in a match. The press that those two brought to the event had all pop culture eyes on _WrestleMania_, ensuring a big pay-per-view audience.

Not that Mike didn't have a little bit of celebrity in his own right. He was a former MTV star. Winning the WWE Championship had gotten himself and the WWE quite a bit of mainstream attention. He was proud of himself for making it so far, going from botching his lines during the Diva Search to horrible competitions on _Tough Enough_ and hazing to get where he was. Now that he was on top, life was sweet. There was an extra bounce in his step. He loved every second of his life at the moment, even though he knew there was always a chance the bubble could burst.

Mike sent a text message to his friend and NXT rookie, Alex Riley. _Man, I just met the hottest chick. Like, wow. _

After he hit the send button, he felt a small pang of guilt. His girlfriend was one of the most beautiful women on the planet, a white-blonde Playboy model. But the discovery of Cristina was too good not to share with one of his best guy friends.

Alex messaged back right away, interested in all the details and a full description. Mike described her as best he could. Their conversation soon turned to his upcoming _WrestleMania _match against John Cena, who was looking to recapture his championship. Mike was not only excited about being in the main event of the biggest show of the year, but he was up against the company's Top Dog.

It wasn't a busy day for Mike, which he was thankful for. He was just out to get himself a cup of coffee when he ran into Cristina. He was more than happy to give people directions, because he knew from experience that LA could be a huge, intimidating and frightening place when people are new. He'd had the same feelings when he arrived from Parma, Ohio. Like Cristina, Mike had been forced to rely on the kindness of strangers to find things, and some strangers hadn't been so kind. He had almost been mugged once in his first week. Mike was so broke at the time, the guy didn't get away with much.

While he was out doing his own thing, Maryse was doing an interview for some website or magazine. He wasn't sure of all the details. She had been mad at him when she had left the house, taking his BMW and murmuring something in French. He understood; she had called him a jackass. As much as he loved her, their relationship was tumultuous at best, with her vanity, jealousy and insecurity throwing constant monkey wrenches into their relationship.

When it came to Maryse, Mike knew they were at a crossroads that he didn't want to face. He loved her, but with the way her attitude was, he wasn't sure he saw a future with her. She seemed too into herself to truly love somebody else. Everyone - Mike included - thought it was insulting that she would always swear at him under her breath in French, that she would compare him to the other men she had dated in her life. Mike often felt like he couldn't stack up to them. The Divas at work always told him they never understood how he put up with such behavior. They wondered why he stayed. Even if she didn't show it to him, he loved her and cared about her a great deal.

Despite how angry she was at him, for reasons he wasn't sure of, Mike was happy. Today, life was good. He had time to himself, he had made a new, beautiful Italian friend and he had managed to make it a few blocks without being recognized by fans, thanks in large part to the sunglasses and the bulky clothing. After he got his coffee, he made his way back home, hoping to watch some of the older _WrestleManias_. He wanted to find something to do that would set his match with John Cena apart from everything else on the card. It would be a difficult, he knew but Mike was always up for a challenge.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Un tel util_."

With those three words, Maryse turned her back to her boyfriend, shutting him out completely for the night.

Maryse had gone through his phone while he was in the shower, suspicious that he had come home in such a good mood. She had found out about Cristina. Even though he had explained to her that she was new, and needed a friend, Maryse had thrown a fit. She had screamed and howled, hurling accusations at him that he vehemently denied. It was ridiculous to him that she would be so jealous of anybody, considering she was one of the most beautiful women in the world. After hurling a throw pillow at him from the couch, Maryse turned on her heels and went into their bedroom, slamming the door behind her in a dramatic fashion. He had sank to the couch in defeat, wondering what it would take to make her forgive this situation.

As the hours wore on and she stayed in the bedroom, Mike found himself becoming more defensive about the situation. He was angry that she had gone through his personal phone. He knew that she would never put up with him doing such a thing. He wondered which Diva put her up to the act. He was pretty sure it was Victoria Crawford or Melina Perez. Those two were always in her ear, talking her up and giving her an even heavier air of authority than she already felt she had.

Mike lay beside her in bed, feeling the frost from her cold shoulder. In the morning he would run to the jewelry store and get her a new necklace or a set of earrings. He was undecided. It was getting a little too expensive to make up with her. It was always a necklace, a bracelet or earrings. Mike refused to buy her a ring. He didn't want her to misinterpret his intentions, especially because he wasn't ready to make her Mrs. Mizanin yet. They'd been dating for eight months and she stayed with him for weeks at a time, despite having her own beautiful home in the heart of LA. It was like she had to stay and watch him like she was a human surveillance camera. She had trust issues that were beginning to wear thin on him, especially because he had never given her a reason to mistrust him.

His mind was still on meeting Cristina, which he knew was bad. But the truth was that he saw a lot of himself in her and it reminded him of when he first arrived in LA. They both carried an air of confidence when they were alone and afraid of where the future was going to take him. He wondered if she had found a small place to stay or if she was staying with someone. He wondered what kind of music she was listening to if it took her to places like the one she had been sent to. In the morning, he planned on messaging her and asking her about the name of her magazine. He perused a lot of underground music mags, so he wanted to know if he knew the one she worked for. Maryse had demanded that he delete her number, but he had held firm. It was the big reason why it had turned into such an ordeal.

The tension that resonated from Maryse was suffocating. He thought about getting up and moving to the couch, but he knew that would trigger another fight. Lately, she was more irritable, like Melina, because she was worried Vince was losing interest in her as a Diva. All of his attention was focused on Trish Stratus, Snooki, Eve Torres and the team of Michelle McCool and Layla. Even if Mike tried to tell her otherwise, Maryse would just roll her eyes and put her hand up to his face, wordlessly telling him to shut up before informing him he had no idea what he was talking about. She always murmured about being "on the bubble" because her charge Ted DiBiase, Jr., was not getting over, no matter how hard everyone tried. She was paranoid and convinced that Ted was going to bring her down. Mike got sick of hearing about it, especially because she made it clear that nothing he could say would make her feel better.

Maryse was fast asleep, her breathing slow and even. Her white-blonde tresses were fanned over her pillows. He wanted to cuddle close to her, to feel her warmth against him, but when she was in one of her moods he knew the slightest thing would set her off. He was beginning to feel resentment towards her. He was accomplishing everything he wanted to, but she didn't care. Because it meant nobody was talking about Maryse.

* * *

><p>Draped in thick waves of bubbles, Cristina laid back against the tiled wall of her bathtub. She had small tea-light candles lit around the corners. Beside her was a big glass of red wine. Her hair was tied up high on her head. The small compact stereo on the bathroom counter was playing some soft Within Temptation. She took a sip of her wine and sank deeper into the hot water.<p>

The day had seemed to salvage itself after her chance encounter with the stranger on the street. Her interview had gone extraordinarily well. She had already typed it all up and sent it out to her editor. He was going to call her in the morning and go over it with her. The band itself had been better than she thought. They had played a couple songs for her during their sound-check rehearsal and given her a demo CD to sample. She wasn't a huge fan of industrial music, but she respected every musician's right to be an artist.

After a quiet dinner of some leftover stew she had made the night before, Cristina watched the first two _Underworld _movies and then took a bubble bath. Her mind was still on Miz. She wished her show of gratitude hadn't been so stilted and awkward. Sometimes she got so frustrated trying to come up with the right English words to say. Her day had been going so horribly, but thanks to him she had made it. LA was still big and scary to her after all these months. To her, it seemed like everyone wanted to be famous. She was surrounded by so much fakery. She felt like she had left her home country to come to some surreal, warped version of utopia.

Cristina lived in a small apartment with not a lot of belongings. She was thankful to have what she had and for the little things. Things were beginning to look up. She'd been an intern for a little while, until one of the interviewers quit for the greener pastures of _Rolling Stone _magazine. It was the opening Cristina needed, and so far, things had been working out for her.

Slowly, but surely, life was getting better for her. She's made a big step leaving her family behind, and she was determined to make it pay off. She hoped a raise would follow. It was a little magazine that barely made its overhead, so she knew it wouldn't be much. Tomorrow she knew would be an interesting conversation with her editor. She could write beautifully in Italian, but when it came to the English translations, she still had a few problems.

Cristina was excited to have made a new friend. Outside of work and her home, she didn't go anywhere. She knew nobody. She remembered that he said he traveled a lot. He did look familiar to Cristina, but she couldn't place where she knew him from. There was something about him she couldn't put her finger on, but she had a feeling that she had seen him before.

When her bath was over, Cristina climbed into her favorite silk nightgown and crawled into her bed, pulling the covers over her. Tomorrow was supposed to be another beautiful day in the City of Angels. Tomorrow, she'd learn how the interview article played out. She fought away her feelings of self-doubt that weighed down her stomach like an anvil. She knew she was good enough and had a good understanding of music to be a journalist, but she was still self-conscious that her English wasn't as good as it could have been. It was getting better, but she felt she wasn't where she needed to be.

Rolling onto her side, Cristina saw the clock on the nightstand read ten-fifteen. It took her almost an hour to fall asleep; her mind was racing in a billion different directions. America was supposed to be the Land of Opportunity, and she hoped it would be like that for her. Little did Cristina Maria Cannellucci know that things were going to start going places she never dreamed of.


	3. Chapter 3

The coffee shop was crowded when Cristina arrived. Her shift at the magazine was finally over; even though it had been a great day professionally, it had also been a very long day. A text from Mike had lifted her spirits; he asked if she wanted to go for coffee with him and his friend Alex.

Inside, the place was crowded. Cristina took off her sunglasses and scanned the place for any sign of her friend. He spotted her first at the back of the café and raised his hand, motioning her to come forward. A beautiful smile crossing her features, she made her way through the throngs of people and the crowded tables, sliding into a seat between Mike and Alex. A waitress arrived in seconds; Cristina ordered an iced coffee and a cranberry scone.

"Glad you could make it," Mike said with a grin. "Cristina, this is A-Ri. A-Ri, this is Cristina."

"A-Ri…that's a funny name," she remarked, awkwardly shaking his hand. He was a muscular blonde, bulkier and taller than Mike, but she found that they kind of shared similar appearances.

"It's Alex Riley - A-Ri is just a nickname," he explained to her. Her mouth opened in an "ah", feeling completely stupid. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Cristina. Mike's description of you didn't do you justice in the slightest." Cristina's eyes turned to Mike, who was blushing, wishing that the floor under his seat would open and swallow him whole. Maryse didn't know he was meeting Cristina today as well; she was off doing some photo shoot for _WWE Magazine_. She had barely spoken two words to him since the night before. It was part of the reason why Mike had texted Cristina; he was hoping that she would be able to help him pick out the perfect "I'm Sorry" necklace, though he wasn't about to tell her that it was her fault that Maryse was so mad at him.

"How was your day, Cristina?" Mike inquired, hoping to change the subject. "How did your interview go yesterday?"

"Great. It was fun. The guys…they are a good band."

"Who did you interview?" Alex asked.

"Some industrial underground band called Pacifier Puritans. Or was it Purists…I can't quite remember…it's been such an amazing two days…I got a promotion at my magazine."

"That is awesome!" Mike clapped his hands in joy. "This gives us reason to celebrate, huh? What were you doing before?"

"I was just an intern, Mike. Now I'm a full-on writer. I even got a small raise."

"That's amazing. Next step - _Rolling Stone_!" Alex announced as the waitress came back with Cristina's snack.

"I've never been here before…this looks good," she replied.

"It's the best coffee place in Los Angeles," Mike replied.

"So what is going on with you guys?"

"We have to head out tomorrow. _WrestleMania_ week in Atlanta; I've got interviews and things to do before the show…"

"Wait…_WrestleMania_…do you wrestle?" _Now_ she recognized where he was from. She had seen his face on a poster in Italy when they had done a tour there. Her photographic memory was good; her name placement was another story. They had toured Italy just before she left, but she was never a fan. Her brother Andrea was a die-hard fan, though. But he lived in Palermo with her father.

"You didn't know that?" Mike was surprised. Within seconds he realized how it had sounded. "Not that I'm arrogant or anything, it's just…people seem to know who I am a lot."

"I knew I had seen your face before…I could not place you."

"Well, I guess you can now." If she was starstruck or intimidated, Mike couldn't tell. He was pretty thankful for that; it was hard for him to make new friends because of who he had become. His dream was a double edged sword, but he was more than willing to take it.

They were standing in the mall, at a jewellery store. Alex had disappeared into The Bay for some cologne, leaving Mike and Cristina together to pick out a necklace for Maryse.

"So what is she like, your girlfriend?" Cristina inquired. Mike had told her a little bit about Maryse; specifically, that she, too, was a WWE employee.

"She's very…confident," he informed her, staring at a necklace. "I guess that's what makes her such a great Diva."

"What about this? Is this nice?" Mike walked over to her and saw what she was pointing at.

"Oh, no. No rings."

"Why not?"

"It's complicated. Necklaces, earrings, bracelets…let's stick to that." Cristina nodded.

"Your girlfriend is very lucky to have a boyfriend who does this kind of thing for her." Mike had a sneaking suspicion that she was always mad at him to get things. Not that he wouldn't get her things if she wasn't mad at him, but money always seemed to talk the loudest to Maryse.

"I sure wish she saw it that way," he mused. Cristina selected a necklace that Mike really liked.

"It sounds as if you are unhappy."

"I'm at a crossroads," he confessed, going to the cashier to pay. "It's complicated."

"You seem to be very complicating, Miz," she replied, smiling. He flashed her an unsure smile, taking the small black box in the small black bag from the jeweller.

"Not really. Things just tend to get complicated with Maryse." He rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry - you must think I'm a total psychopath. Giving out my entire life to a girl I just met."

"Not at all. I'm told I have that affect on people," she replied. He held the door open for her and they were back in the main hallway of the mall in seconds. She checked her cell phone. "I should probably go, though."

"What are you up to for your night?"

"The usual…dinner and some movies, and some writing for the magazine. I'm supposed to review a few new albums. How about you?"

"Making a sacrifice to the White Blonde Goddess," he replied sarcastically. Cristina snickered at his sense of humour. The entire afternoon, she found him to be an outgoing, sarcastic, sometimes even jovial person with a strong aura of confidence that exuded from every pore.

Alex approached. "Hey…what's going on?"

"I need to go home," Cristina replied. "Lots of music to listen to and write about tonight."

"That's too bad. Can you do us a favour?"

"What do you need?"

"This sounds really dumb, but can I hear something in Italian? It's such a beautiful language," Alex replied, a small pink tint fading into his cheeks. Cristina smiled; she really enjoyed making friends in Mike Mizanin and Alex Riley. She thought about something nice to say.

"_Grazie per un bel pomeriggio, I rigazzi,_" she said to them, feeling a hot blush burn her. The guys smiled.

"I know what _grazie_ means, but what does everything else mean?" Mike inquired.

"It means 'thank you for a beautiful afternoon, boys,'" Cristina replied. The guys beamed widely. "Now, I hate to do this, but I must go. Have a good night, boys." They bid their farewells to Cristina, who disappeared into the throngs of people.

Cristina spent the night texting with Alex, talking about music. She was surprised to learn that he had a wide knowledge of all genres; especially because she had pegged him as a hip hopper. She was listening to the new Within Temptation album; their first in four years that she had finally managed to get her hands on. Her editor had given it to her to review, albeit a little bit late. Now, she was doing her dinner dishes, texting with Alex and dancing to "Faster", mumbling the lyrics under her breath; lyrics she had learned from repeated YouTube video viewings.

She couldn't stop thinking about the situation with Mike and his girlfriend. Cristina would be the first to admit that she was naïve when it came to the concept of love. Everything she had read told her it was passionate, all-consuming…she didn't sense that with Mike. She wondered if she was ever going to meet his girlfriend.

Mike was a wrestler. That's why he traveled. It made all the sense in the world. She thought about emailing her brother to tell him that she was actually becoming very quick friends with him. He would be so jealous. The thought brought an enormous smile to her face.

Later on, she had the grand plans of kicking back with a glass of red wine and a movie called _Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby_, a random movie she had selected at the video store on the way home. Treating herself as celebration for her great news yesterday, she had stopped off at the grocery store afterwards, grabbing a miniature cheesecake and some deli stuff for a big sandwich.

Alex told her he had seen _Talladega Nights_, and that it was a really funny movie. Cristina was a bit excited; tonight she was in the mood to laugh. Her life was finally starting to look up. She was making friends, she had received a raise, and slowly, but surely, her little apartment was feeling more and more like home.

Maryse was laying with her back to him again, even though the necklace had soothed her seething ego. They had been intimate, but Maryse wasn't interested in snuggling up to him afterwards. She had worn the necklace to bed, fingering the diamonds with her long, manicured nails. A soft smile had tugged at her soft pink lips as she straddled Mike, giving him kisses, uttering sweet words in French, knowing that Mike enjoyed that. And now, here they were in the afterglow, and he still felt so very alone, even though he was laying beside her.

He was beginning to wonder if she loved him. Hell, for that matter, he was even beginning to wonder if he loved her. It seemed like they were a relationship of convenience, maybe Maryse's paranoid way of holding onto her job by being with the WWE Champion. He knew he was horrible to think such thoughts, but he couldn't help it when she treated him like this.

When they had first gotten together, it had been absolute magic. It had started with some on-air teasing that had developed into something more backstage. Some of the guys backstage had been jealous, until the months dragged on and they saw just what Mike was dealing with. Eve Torres was always telling Mike that she could never figure out what he was doing with somebody so cold, when he was such a warm, caring guy.

Mike was starting to go to great lengths to take his phone with him _everywhere_. He had learned his lesson, and he wanted to maintain his friendship with Cristina and not incite Maryse any further. There was a part of him that realized that eventually, it would tear him apart, even though Cristina knew nothing of these issues, but the surprising thing to him was that he didn't care at all.

Alex and Mike had talked after Cristina left. Well, mostly, Alex had raved about how gorgeous Cristina was, and how amazing it was to hear her speak fluent Italian. Alex had been surprised to hear she was teaching herself English and coming along so well. In the past several days, she was quickly becoming their favourite person.

Maryse was breathing softly, the blankets up to her neck, only a small peek of white blonde hair visible to Mike's eye. He was beginning to get used to this, to the frostbite that came with dating Maryse. It was like she was an Ice Queen; tall, regal, encased in her own world of splendour, and unhappy to allow anyone inside of it. The more time that went on, the less and less he wanted to keep trying.

Tomorrow they would be leaving for Atlanta, and even though he had dropped a fair amount on the necklace Cristina picked out, it still felt like it wasn't enough for her. Nothing ever seemed to be enough for her.


	4. Chapter 4

Atlanta was in full swing by the time Mike and Maryse made it there. Fans met them in the airport, asking for autographs, pictures. Maryse couldn't be bothered. Mike knew he shouldn't bother either, just because he's a heel, but he was in such a great mood that he spent a solid fifteen minutes posing with fans, A-Ri snapping photos while Maryse stood off, rolling her eyes, giving off her Ice Queen vibe that kept the fans from approaching her.

It always stunned Mike how many people really and truly hated John Cena…some weren't sure if they hated Mike more than John, though. Mike always wondered why Vince never pulled the trigger and turned John Cena heel when the fans seemed to hate him so much. But the atmosphere just in the airport was electric and Mike was ecstatic to be headlining his first WrestleMania.

Maryse grabbed Mike by the wrist, her manicured nails scratching him as she dragged him through the throngs of people toward baggage claim. He wanted to say something about her always being a stick in the mud, but he couldn't quite make himself do it. It probably made him look a little weak in front of the fans, but he didn't care that much. Alex was close on their heels, following after them, shooting apologetic looks to the fans and motioning to Maryse's back. A couple of fans outright booed Maryse's decision to pull Mike away.

Alex was getting tired of feeling sympathetic to Mike, who was a nice guy who just wanted the good life. He had everything in the world going for him at the moment, with the exception of a loving, supportive girlfriend. He and Eve Torres talk about it all the time. It's far from a secret that Maryse is the least-liked girl backstage in the WWE Divas locker room. Conceited, arrogant, high-maintenance. Everybody was pretty surprised when Mike and Maryse finally got together a few months ago. Yeah, there was chemistry there, but not anymore. Not with Maryse always angry at him.

Maryse took off to get her roots touched up with Alicia Fox, leaving Mike and Alex by themselves in Mike's hotel room. It was a nice room, with pale walls, white carpeting and an enormous balcony that let a lot of light into the airy room.

"I don't know how you put up with it, man. She can't be _that good_," Alex informed him with a roll of the eyes. "Did you see how those fans reacted when she grabbed you and dragged you out?"

"Yeah…it is getting to be a bit much, isn't it?" Mike admitted, running a hand through his Mohawk. Alex nodded. "It'll be fine, though; I'm sure things will even out after these apparent roster cuts…when she knows she has job security she'll loosen up."

Alex wanted to call delusion, but he knew better. There was no getting through to Mike now about things. It was driving Eve crazy, considering that Eve had become good friends with Mike stemming from her days hanging out with JTG and Shad in Cryme Tyme. She had even gone so far as to try warning him against Maryse, but it was to no avail; Mike was completely smitten with the French-Canadian. There was no getting that out of his head. Alex was hoping that maybe with meeting Cristina he would realize that there were other women out there who were stunning - he found her more beautiful than Maryse - and who were probably going to treat him way better as well. It was going to take Mike a while, but Alex was pretty confident that he would see it.

"This is so amazing. I never thought I'd be here, A-Ri," Mike replied, standing up from the couch and going to the balcony doors, staring out at the Atlanta city. "Now, I'm here main-eventing _WrestleMania 27_ with John Cena, and we're working with The Rock as well. This is so huge!"

"I know. You should be really proud of yourself, Mike." He wanted to add, "Maryse should be proud of you, too," but he knew better than to open that can of worms. She had him so wrapped around her finger, struggling to do the right thing…it just wasn't fair. The small fortune Mike had dropped on her in diamonds to soothe her bruising ego, her temper tantrums and her Diva behaviour was absolutely mind-boggling. Alex couldn't figure out why Mike continued to do it. In a sense, he was completely enabling her behaviour, but he knew better than to stick his nose in her business.

Mike continued to stare out the door, a smile tugging at his features. This was the dream; and he was living it.

**X**

"Oh, girl, you did not find another woman's number in his phone!"

Alicia Fox, Maryse and Melina Perez were sitting around in the hair salon, getting their hair done for the upcoming _WrestleMania Axxess_ stint they were about to do. Maryse had just told them about finding Cristina's number in Mike's phone, adding pauses for dramatic effect to make the girls hang on for more.

"He insists that he's not sleeping with her," Maryse replied. "I'm not sure if I believe him…what if he doesn't find me attractive anymore?"

"Are you crazy?" Melina inquired with a roll of her eyes. Her hair was in tinfoil, the blue streaks getting touched up in her mop of black waves. "Have you seen yourself? You are a freaking _Playboy_ model. And you're a Diva. We're smart, sexy and powerful, remember?"

"Ah, _merci beaucoup, _Melina," Maryse replied, a smile tugging at her features.

"So what did he say when you confronted him…you did confront him about this, right?" Alicia inquired. Maryse nodded.

"Of course. I'm no doormat. He said she's a journalist. I haven't read anything she's done…never even heard of her."

"What's her name?"

"Beats me. Something with a C." The girls laughed; peals of catty laugher that bounced off the tiny walls of the Atlanta hair salon. Alicia was getting the red in her hair touched up, a Rihanna-inspired move that she felt had paid off.

"I can't see Mike being stupid enough to fool around on _that_," Alicia replied, motioning to Maryse. "He has his dumb moments, but he's not _that_ dumb."

"You should have seen the necklace he got me to say he was sorry," she replied with a bit of a smirk. "It was nice, but it wasn't the nicest one he got me. I threw him a bone and went to sleep." She rolled her eyes. "Men are so easy to control."

"You said it," Melina replied with a snicker. "That's all they want from us."

At the other end of the hair salon, Eve Torres rolled her eyes. "Speak for yourselves, ladies," she murmured under her breath, keeping her eyes in her novel _The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest_. Listening to the three of them speak was like listening to Michelle McCool and Layla on TV. It made Eve want to stick an ice pick in her ear drums and pray for the sweet mercy of deafness. Rolling her eyes, she turned the page and listened to Maryse bash her boyfriend a little bit more.

**X**

It was a quiet day for Cristina, who decided to spend the day working on a new article about the history of symphonic metal. To say it was an ambitious article was a little bit of an understatement, and Cristina was doing her damnedest to find ways to contact different symphonic metal bands, hoping somebody would throw her a bone and talk about influences.

She knew she had to start from the genre of classical and keep going further and further down until she reached the genre, and it was going to take a while. Her boss was more than happy to let her work from home, but he did want another meeting with her when the article was done. He loved her review of _The Unforgiving_, which was playing in her CD player at the moment. She couldn't get enough of the album.

Sipping on her coffee, she stared at the paragraph she had gotten written on her little second-hand laptop. Outside it was a beautiful day, the windows were open, the air crisp in her nostrils. The streets were bustling below her third-story apartment; she could vaguely hear street bands playing music.

Feeling a touch hungry, Cristina went to the fridge and grabbed the mini cheesecake that she had been saving for a writer's block. It was strawberry swirl, her favourite. It had been a great week. She had emailed her brother, telling him about making a new friend in Mike and A-Ri, to which her brother had texted back to say that he was awful. It had prompted a huge laugh out of her, since her brother was such a rabid fan. She hadn't heard from Mike since the jewellery store trip; one part of her was aware that he was travelling and doing things, yet another part of her wondered if she had overstepped her boundaries and said something out of turn. Shaking her head, she tried to push the thoughts out of her mind; he was the champion, he was busy. But she had been hearing from Alex pretty often, just him asking if she had heard of different bands or if she knew how to say a certain thing in Italian. After about two dozen texts, Cristina had laughed and told him to pick up a Teach Yourself Italian book. Worried she had offended Alex, she was relieved when he texted back with a laugh out loud and a smiling face.

Making friends never was easy for Cristina, especially since emigrating. The language barrier had infuriated a lot of people, who would jeer at her and some would even taunt her. Others would be nice, but nobody ever seemed interested in being friends with her. It would have helped a lot more if she left her apartment as well. Outside of work, she barely ever left.

Returning to her laptop, digging her fork into the small circular cake, Cristina savoured every bite as she thought about different symphonic metal bands and how they all traced back to classical music. She had written out an enormous list of symphonic metal bands, their countries of origin, and she had her fingers crossed that somebody would get back to her. To her, it would have been better to get a quote from them, to give the links a little bit more depth.


	5. Chapter 5

The _WrestleMania_ press conference was a huge event in New York. Mike had left Maryse in Atlanta to go tend to the press conference, which was going to include Snooki from _The Jersey Shore_, The Rock, John Cena and all the other guys involved in the pay-per-view, with Stephanie McMahon-Levesque hosting the festivities.

Maryse was being aloof with him; he gathered something had been said to put thoughts in her head when she went and got her hair done. That was a pretty regular occurrence. He didn't care though; with Maryse out of his sight, he was texting with Cristina. It felt really wrong to be so secretive about everything, but he felt Maryse was not going to accept things, which drove him nuts. Out of all the people he knew, he always felt that Maryse, who arrived in the United States not knowing a word of English, should have a basic understanding and empathy for people in the same boat. But she didn't; the _Playboy_ spreads, the magazine covers and the camera perpetually on her had erased the small-town girl that she had once been. She was caught up; too far gone to be brought back.

Fans were rabid outside, shouting "Awesome" at Mike as he climbed out of the limousine. He waved, shook hands with a fan or two, and then readjusted his championship over his shoulder before entering the building.

Snooki was inside, talking to Stephanie McMahon. Mike smirked, taking out his phone and texting to Cristina that Snooki was short. He suppressed a laugh when Cristina asked who he was talking about. Mike found himself even more relieved when he found out that she didn't even watch TV. Maryse loved Snooki and _The Jersey Shore_ and had actually been starstruck when Snooki arrived to work with Trish Stratus.

Cristina was curious about the press conference. He told her to log onto the corporate website to see a stream of the press conference. She promised that she would and that she would text him after the conference was over. A warm smile crossed his features when she actually wished him luck on his press conference, and outright laughed when she relayed her brother's message to him.

Maryse was enjoying some retail therapy with Brie and Nikki Bella, looking for dresses for the upcoming Hall of Fame ceremony. At the moment, she was trying on a white dress, complaining to the twins that Mike was suffocating her.

"It's such a relief he went to New York," she confessed dramatically, slinging her blue mini-dress over the door of the change room. "He's driving me absolutely crazy."

"Alicia said you found another woman's number in his phone…" Brie started.

"_Oui. _It's not that big of a deal; I don't think he's spoken to her since I confronted him about it." She opened the change room door wearing a white shimmering dress. Shaking her head at the reflection in the mirror, she disappeared back into the change room.

"Do you really think he was looking to fool around on you?" Nikki inquired. Maryse laughed.

"Maybe, but you have to understand - Mike can't do _anything _right," Maryse snickered, pulling the dress off of the door. The girls laughed, but Brie's was more awkward and stilted than Nikki's. "I doubt he could do better than this…she's probably 300 pounds. That's why she's a journalist…she can hide behind her keyboard and eat all the candy she wants." Maryse snickered. "Mike is not going to go anywhere," she informed everybody, grabbing a red dress off of the rack. "He doesn't want to. That's just all that there is to it."

**X**

Cristina was sitting back on her couch with a glass of lemon water, watching the press conference unfold. She started putting faces to names. When she saw John Cena, she wondered just how Mike was going to overcome that challenge. The fans didn't seem to happy to see John, though she did hear a mixed reaction for Mike.

It was so strange to her to see him being so brash and arrogant, considering that the man she had met had been so humble and helpful to her. But there he was, standing at the podium with the championship on his shoulder, proclaiming to the fans that he was truly awesome, and that he would be leaving WWE's biggest event with the WWE Championship.

The entire world of pro wrestling seemed so much larger than life to Cristina, who never quite understood what her brother saw in it. He used to watch it with his father while her mother would try teaching her girly things that she would need when she became a housewife. Unfortunately for Cristina, she just wasn't good at anything, no matter how interested she was in it as a child. Then her parents split; her brother went with her father, she stayed with her mother.

It had been difficult to tell her mother that she was emigrating to America. She had cried and wailed, begging Cristina not to go, warning her of the dangers there. But Cristina was determined to make it in America. Initially, she had wanted to be a screenwriter, but in her first week, she wound up at some free underground music festival. A writer at her magazine had overheard her asking the band some intelligent, interesting questions and offered her internship. The rest was history. Within a few months, she was already a contributing writer. It was a great feeling.

The press conference ended with John Cena standing off with The Rock. Cristina closed the window, grabbed her cell phone off the table and texted to Mike that he had done a great job at the conference. Mike responded back with a thanks. Cristina was still blown away at the difference in character when the cameras were on him. She wondered how he had learned to balance it.

Alex texted her; he wanted to know her opinion on the press conference. She texted back that it was wonderful. She put the window of her Microsoft Word back up so she could continue to work on her symphonic metal article.

**X**

Mike, John, Phil Brooks - CM Punk - and Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson all went out for drinks with Stephanie McMahon and Triple H after the press conference. Randy Orton had gone back to his tour bus to call his wife and see how their daughter was doing; she had come down with an ear infection earlier in the week and was in quite a bit of pain.

They found a nice little bar and grill in the heart of Times Square, where they took pictures, signed autographs and shook hands with fans. Even John had gotten some love from a bunch of teenage women and some kids who had played hooky from school to dress up like him. It always astounded Mike just how far-reaching John Cena's influence was on the children. TMZ had just reported that John was set to grant thirty wishes for the Make A Wish Foundation after _WrestleMania_ in the form of a pizza party. It always made Mike feel good that WWE was such a charitable organization, although with him being such a heel, nobody wanted anything to do with him.

"Great press conference today, you guys," Stephanie announced, lifting her margarita in the air. The guys all hooted and hollered, clicking glasses with her. _WrestleMania_ every year was a special occasion for the McMahon family, who had thrown everything they owned against the wall in the hopes that the first one would work. And when it did, it became an event symbolic of success to the McMahon family.

"The fans were good to you today, Steph," Dwayne teased, sipping on his beer. He was on leave from Hollywood for a little bit to come back to the business he had grown up in, from his Hall of Fame father to his Hall of Fame grandfather. It was full-circle this year for a lot of the guys in the Attitude Era, and Mike never thought he'd have the opportunity to meet The Rock and Stone Cold Steve Austin, two of his favourites from that era. And now, here he was, having a beer with The Rock.

**X**

Cristina closed up the windows when the night began to fall. Tonight would be a quiet night, with _Resident Evil: Apocalypse_, her article and a glass of red wine for her heart. Tonight her mother had called, frantic, concerned that she hadn't heard from her daughter in two weeks. Assuring her mother that she was all right, Cristina excitedly told her mother about becoming a contributing writer and how she was making good friends in L.A. Her mother was still a little apprehensive about her being overseas, but reluctantly congratulated her daughter.

Now, she had the house to herself, her cell phone charging, thanks to Mike and Alex killing the battery over the course of the day, and a good horror/science-fiction/zombie apocalypse movie to watch. Settling down on the couch, she hit play on the menu and continued to work on the article, excited that the management team for Epica had emailed her back, telling her that lead singer Simone Simons would do a Skype chat with her for her article. It was exciting, to say the least, as Cristina was pretty familiar with Epica. Her manager would go off the walls knowing that she managed to get her hands on an interview without having to make him set it up for her. It would show initiative; that's how she would get ahead.

Tying her hair back in a sloppy bun held together with her pencil, Cristina scanned the screen, looking for typos or words that didn't belong. On the screen, Milla Jovovich was giving her the rundown of what happened in the last movie, which Cristina had hated. Her stepbrother Giuseppe was a huge video gamer, and she had spent a fair amount of time with him when the first _Resident Evil_ video game had come out. The movie hadn't done it justice, in her opinion. She liked _Apocalypse_ because she felt it was closer to the games.

Tonight would be another quiet night, though Cristina spoiled herself by ordering a small pizza from the place down the road. It came with free pizza fingers that she ate, leaving the pizza in the fridge for tomorrow night. She also sent an email out, trying to set up a time to do the Skype interview with Simone Simons, who Cristina regarded as the porcelain doll of symphonic metal; with her pale skin, fiery hair and blue eyes.

Life as a music journalist was exciting to Cristina, who wanted to become the next Sarah Brightman - in symphonic metal, of course - until she realized that she couldn't sing. It had bruised her ego a little bit, but to be able to give new bands to the masses and introduce people to bands they have never heard of…well, it was a dream come true to her.


	6. Chapter 6

Alex texted Cristina to let her know that Mike received a concussion in his match against John Cena at _WrestleMania_ and would not be texting her for the rest of the night. Cristina was a little concerned, but Alex assured her that Mike was fine, just with a pounding headache that wouldn't go away for a week or two. He had explained to her that it was just a bump on the noggin doing a dangerous spot and Mike paid the price. Cristina asked him to send her well wishes to him her way. Alex informed her they would be home on Tuesday and should go out for coffee.

Cristina was spending her evening cleaning and fixing up her house. She was thinking of inviting Mike, Alex and Mike's girlfriend over for dinner. A huge part of her thought that it would be good to have a friend that's a woman.

She spent the day brushing up on her English; her interview with Simone was coming on Wednesday, two days before her deadline was due. It was cutting it close, but she had the barebones of the article written already. But she was pretty certain that she had written a great article. Maybe if she could set up the dinner date by the end of the week, Cristina pondered about the idea of getting A-Ri and Mike to look at the article and give some feedback. She wondered if they knew anything about writing. Either way, it couldn't hurt.

The apartment she lived in was nice and small, cheap and clean, with hardwood floors that were currently sparkling clean and white walls that desperately needed repainting. There was a sliding glass door that led to a little balcony with a shaky rail that needed fixing. It was a one bedroom, one bathroom - which was sparkling clean as well, even though it was already the cleanest room in the house - and a storage unit underground that was empty.

It had been a We Are The Fallen kind of day; a band that Cristina thoroughly enjoyed, though she understood the negative connotations that seemed to follow them. They only had one album, _Tear The World Down_, but it was one of her favourite albums in her CD collection. Outside it had been a somewhat dreary day in Los Angeles; with deep grey gothic-looking clouds threatening to thunderstorm. Now that the pastel was fading into cobalt, rain was starting to fall; she could hear it on the pipes outside of her balcony.

**X**

A-Ri helped Mike back to his hotel room, carrying his bags for him while Mike walked behind him, sunglasses covering his face in the hopes of keeping the light from reaching his eyes. Maryse had gone out to party with Melina, John Morrison, Alicia Fox and the Bella Twins. She was a little perturbed that Mike wasn't coming out with her, but she did have a basic understanding that he was suffering from a legitimate concussion, and all club beats and flashing lights would do is make it worse.

It was a dangerous stunt he and John had tried to pull; Mike was climbing over the barricade to get back into the ring, but John had hit him with a flying tackle, sending them both over the barricade and to the ground. The second Mike hit the ground he knew that he had messed up; there was a flash of white light and then he was knocked silly for a couple of minutes. When he had regained control of his faculties, he had learned that it was a double-count out. He had still retained, even after Rock had come down to the ring and re-started the match. Now, all he had to do in the morning was get through _Raw_. Then he could go home and relax. He found himself wanting to visit with Cristina again, enjoying her company from their coffee date with A-Ri.

He had learned a lot about her upbringing; thanks to his career with WWE, he actually knew the places that she was talking about. Mike couldn't help but wonder just why she left the beautiful landscape of Italy for hustle and bustle of Los Angeles. She had told him that she began downloading English movies and tried to emulate the way the actresses spoke, but it's been a long, slow process. Cristina had told him she practices for a few hours every day, trying to get her annunciation down.

Alex slid the key card into the slot and they entered the hotel room. Mike took off his sunglasses, thankful to be home. His body was beaten, bruised. He felt rough. "You sure you don't want me to stick around, Mike?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine. I'm just going to sleep." Alex bit his lip. Mike rolled his eyes. "A-Ri, could you relax? I'll be fine. You have an extra key card in case anything happens, so you can stop by and wake me up if you worry enough." Alex nodded reluctantly and Mike ushered him out of the room. He didn't bother to turn the lights on. Shucking off his jacket and kicking out of his shoes, Mike crawled into bed and was asleep in minutes.

**X**

Cristina was getting ready for bed when Alex texted her to say he was worried about Mike being left alone. Knowing that these injuries had to be common, Cristina assured him that things would be all right and he knew how to take care of himself. Alex had informed her he had an extra key but he was reluctant to check on him. With a smile at the show of friendship, Cristina informed him that Mike would appreciate it knowing full well that his friend worried enough about him to check on him.

When the text messages from A-Ri stopped, Cristina decided on another bubble bath. It was late, but she didn't care. Filling up the tub with bubbles and putting some UnSun into her portable CD player, Cristina left to gather her things. It was going to be a busy week; tomorrow she would be working more on her article, prepping it for the Simone Simons quotes. She was excited to interview one of her songstress heroines this week. When she had texted Mike and A-Ri about it, she had laughed until tears streamed from her eyes when they asked her who the hell she was interviewing. More and more, she was enjoying having some friends in the area.

Hanging her robe on the back of the bathroom hook on the door, she put her glass of wine on the counter and lit up some candles. It was her time to feel girly, to pamper herself and feel beautiful. Her hair was still tied up with her pencil, and she wasn't about to let it down. She couldn't wait to curl up in bed and get some sleep; it felt like the day had been ridiculously long; it didn't help that she was up at the crack of dawn after having a dream that involved her and Mike.


	7. Chapter 7

"Can I help you?"

"Are you Cristina Cannellucci?"

"I am. And you would be?"

The young, tanned brunette on the other side of the door extended her hand. "My name is Eve Torres. I work with Mike Mizanin." Cristina was absolutely dumbstruck.

"How did you find me?"

"I looked you up in the phone book. It was a long shot, but luckily it paid off." She smiled. "Mike was telling me about you this weekend at _WrestleMania_, and I thought that you could use a friend."

Cristina blinked, then shook her head. "I'm so very sorry, Eve. Would you like to come in? Forgive me for being rude."

"It's fine. I understand that I've caught you by surprise. I would love to come in," she replied. Cristina stepped to the side, allowing Eve to enter. The Diva surveyed the apartment. "It's nice and homey in here. Mike tells me you work for an underground music magazine?"

"Yes. I just got promoted."

"That's wonderful news."

"Can I get you anything? I have water, soda, milk…"

"I'll go for a pop, thanks." Cristina went into her small kitchen and grabbed two cans of Sprite. "Thanks. Mike said it's been a bit lonely for you. He said you came here from Italy?"

"Yes."

"Your English is great. How long have you been working on it?"

"About a year. At least two hours a day."

"Wow. You're a quick learner." Eve sat down on the couch. Cristina joined her. "Well, welcome to America. Has it been a pleasant experience for you so far?"

"It has been good and bad," Cristina confessed. She told Eve about the guys who had ridiculed her accent when she had asked for directions. Eve could see the hurt in her eyes and the embarrassment in her cheeks when they had told her to go back where she came from.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Cristina. Unfortunately, there are those kinds of people here. How did you meet Mike?"

Cristina explained to her how she had been lost trying to find a club that she was due to do an interview at with a band. How she had been having just the worst day. "Mike…he showed up like an angel and offered me a hand. I really, really appreciated it."

"Have you hung out with him a lot?"

"Just once. But we text - back and forth." Eve studied Cristina; so much like Maryse - an immigrant hoping for a good life, teaching herself English - yet so very different. Maryse had lost touch with herself a long time ago; becoming a hardened socialite wannabe Ice Queen. Cristina had yet to find anything like that; instead, she was humbled and thankful that somebody had just taken time to be her friend and to help her find her way around a city that still overwhelmed her. "Me and Alex as well."

"Oh - you've met A-Ri, too?" Cristina nodded. Eve smiled.

"And now you've met me. We're going to have to do a girl's night or something one of these nights."

"Girl's night?" Cristina inquired. Eve was stunned.

"Don't tell me you've never had a girl's night - you know, where you get together, binge, makeovers, dancing, going out…" Cristina's face darkened in confusion.

"Binge?"

"Eat lots," Eve replied. Cristina's mouth formed into a silent "O" in comprehension. "I think it would be a terrific idea, though. Would you be up for that?"

"Yes. That would be…awesome," Cristina answered. Eve laughed, sipping her soda. They began to talk about Eve's life as a WWE Diva.

**X**

Mike had told Eve about Cristina at _WrestleMania_, about this new friend he had made just by being a good Samaritan and helping her out. He was even more excited about the fact that she didn't immediately peg him as a WWE Superstar, so he knew that she was legitimately trying to be friends with him.

He and Maryse had a particularly nasty argument when they got home, which resulted in her throwing a crystal vase at his head. Thankfully - especially with his concussion - he ducked it, narrowly avoiding it. The vase hit the back wall and shattered, flowers floating towards his bare feet as Maryse stormed out of the house, squealing her tires in the driveway for dramatic effect before leaving. What had they been arguing about? Mike wasn't sure; she was picking fights over the dumbest things more and more lately.

Today he wanted to go out, hang out, do something. But he was still feeling pretty rough; he was conflicted. A huge part of him thought about texting Cristina and seeing if he could go over to her place and hang out, or if they can meet up somewhere. Deciding that's what he wanted to do, he fired off a text message. There was no part of him that wanted to be home when Maryse got home from her predictable retail therapy, and there was no way he was buying her off this time. It was just getting old.

"Eve? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question, Mike."

"Did you find this place okay?" Cristina inquired, coming up behind the two of them. Mike nodded. "How is your head? Can I get you some aspirin or some ice?"

"No, no…I'm fine," he assured her. "I really appreciate the offer, though."

"What happened to your ear?" Cristina asked. Mike touched his ear, surprised to find some blood on his earlobe. He figured it must have been the vase grazing him before it shattered against the wall. "Here. You come with me now." She grabbed his wrist, leading him into the bathroom. Sitting him down on the toilet, she grabbed the hydrogen peroxide out of the medicine cabinet and a cotton ball, cleaning the wound. It was a small cut.

"Maryse throw something at you, Mike?" Eve teased. The look in his eyes told her that it was the truth and something flashed in her eyes. Cristina stared between the two of them, understanding that something wasn't right. "Jesus, Mike, that's not good," Eve informed him, "As it is, you have a concussion!"

"It's fine. I'm fine. Just a small graze."

"That's why you're here, isn't it?" Eve asked. "Because Maryse went out."

"I came to see my friend today, Eve," he informed her tightly, leaving little room for argument. "It's too nice to be cooped up in the house, concussion or not."

"I can't believe you got behind the wheel with a concussion, Michael," Eve chastised, shaking her head. "God, sometimes I think you have a death wish." Cristina was intense, focused on making sure his ear was okay.

"Your girlfriend…she did this?" Cristina inquired. Mike hung his head. She put everything back in the cabinets, murmuring under her breath in Italian. "_Questo e orribile…orribile…"_ Eve and Mike exchanged glances at one another.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Cristina asked the two of them. "If you would like, Mike, you can text A-Ri to come out."

"Yeah. Sure. Why don't we do that?" Mike replied. Eve's eyes widened; she could only imagine how Maryse would react if she knew where he was. It would not be a pretty sight, that's for sure.

"Great. I'll start dinner. Mike, why don't you text Alex and invite him out here."

"Can I help you with dinner at all, Cristina?" Cristina dismissed her with a wave of her hand.

"Not at all. You two just have a seat and relax. Throw on some music if you'd like. You two are guests here at my home. I would like you to just relax." Eve smiled. Grabbing Mike roughly by the arm, she hauled him into the living room.

Alex showed up with dessert; a small caramel custard log cake he picked up from a bakery on the way over. Cristina was in the kitchen, cooking her mother's world-famous baked ravioli that was stuffed with three cheeses and spinach. She had hand-mixed some Caesar dressing to go with some salad, sending Eve down to the store to pick up a few things while Mike rested on the couch. She pulled her bottle of red wine, still three quarters full, out of the fridge, grabbing wine glasses that her mother had given her out of the cupboard above the stove.

"Are you sure you don't need help, Cristina?" Mike asked from the couch.

"You relax, Mike. You are hurt. Dinner is almost ready."

"Can I help at all?" Eve inquired.

"Not at all. You should all sit down at the table," she replied. The three of them stood up from the couch and went to the small table in the corner of the room. Cristina had lit a scented candle that smelled like fresh gardenias. She brought out the red wine and the glasses, putting them down at all four spots before disappearing back into the kitchen.

When she had prepped all four plates for dinner, she took them out two at a time, serving Mike and Alex first, her and Eve second. Relieved that her cooking was finished, and hoping that everybody liked the blush sauce she had made, she took her place at the table and poured herself a glass of red wine.

"Oh…I forgot the parmesan…" Cristina began, but Mike was up in a flash to get it. "_Grazie_, Mike. I hope you like this. It is my mother's favourite recipe."

"This sauce is incredible," Eve replied, cutting a ravioli in half and shovelling it into her mouth. "Man, you've got to teach me how to cook like this. My boyfriend would lose his mind." A wide smile broke across Cristina's features.

"I think this is the first time a woman who isn't my mom has cooked for me," Mike replied with a chuckle. "I'm a bit jealous after tasting this! What am I missing out on?" Eve shook her head at Mike's ridiculousness. Mike's eyes squeezed shut as a jolt of pain rushed through him. Cristina put her napkin down.

"Mike…?" Concern was etched on her features.

"I'm fine…one second…" Mike stood shakily, Cristina and Eve rushing to grab a hold of each arm.

"Where do you want to go?" Cristina inquired.

"Outside. It's so hot…I need air…" Mike gasped, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Cristina nodded towards the balcony door at Eve and the two women led him outside, standing with him in case he collapsed.

"Should we take you to the hospital?" Cristina inquired. Mike shook his head. "Can I get you some aspirin?"

"That might be a good idea." Cristina motioned for Eve to wait with Mike and rushed to the bathroom. Alex watched, inquisitive, listening to her murmur frantically under her breath in Italian. She emerged within seconds as Eve was bringing Mike in. She grabbed him a can of Sprite and gave him two aspirins with the Sprite. Grabbing his wine glass, she took it into the kitchen, leaving it on the counter as Eve helped Mike get comfortable again.

"We should maybe call you a cab home, Mike," Eve replied. "No way you can drive." Mike shook his head.

"It's fine. I have a concussion…it happens. The Tylenol should do something. Thank you, Cristina." She flashed him a concerned smile and they went back to eating their dinner, talking excitedly about some of the exciting things going on in their lives.

**X**

Maryse was asleep when Mike got home. He wasn't in the mood to sleep, let alone look at her. His night had been great without her; with him, Eve and Alex looking over and advising Cristina on her new article. It was going to be amazing when it was done, and Cristina had given him a couple of her past issues of the magazine to read.

Mike crashed down in his armchair, turning on the television, making sure the volume was down. He turned it to a late night repeat of _South Park_, but he was too distracted to enjoy the full humour of things. It had actually touched him profoundly to see a woman care so much for him while knowing so little about him. He wondered what Maryse's malfunction was considering Cristina had known him for a lot less time and acted like an empathetic human being. Mike rolled his eyes; when Maryse wakes up in the morning, there's a good shot that she'll be cold-hearted and cruel again, this time because Mike didn't buy her anything to soothe her temper. After a while, it just became empty; hollow, worthless. He needed something more, and the more and more things that went on between him and Maryse, the less and less he wanted to be with her.


	8. Chapter 8

Alex and Mike were hanging out backstage at _Raw_, talking about the direction Mike's life was headed outside of the ring. Eve and John Cena were with them, staging something of a mock intervention for Mike while Maryse was running wild backstage with Alicia, Brie and Nikki.

"Mike, we're not saying that you need to dump her; we're just saying that the way things are going with you and her right now just is not healthy. For fuck sakes, Mike, she winged a vase at you, knowing full well that you had a concussion!" Eve announced, shaking her head. "Yeah, sure, she grazed your ear, but it could have been so much worse!"

"I know," Mike replied. There really was nothing that he could say that was going to excuse Maryse's behaviour. Not that he wanted to; he had quit doing that ages ago. Buying her diamonds and jewellery and clothing and lingerie…he knew he was just enabling her behaviour. Unfortunately, he just wanted somebody who was going to love him and not be jealous while he was on the road.

"She threw something at your head?" John cracked. "What the hell did you do to piss her off?" Everybody looked at John, who clamped his mouth shut. Sometimes he had a tendency to shoot off at the mouth and come off as a bit of an idiot.

"We fight over every and anything these days," Mike replied. "The sad part is, I still think I want to make it work."

"We can't tell you what you can or can't do," Alex replied. "But her throwing stuff at you when you're already injured…that's scary. I don't like hearing about that, and I think it's a safe bet that Eve and John don't like hearing that either." Mike looked at his friends, who nodded in agreement. Eve was positively horrified. Mike didn't really know what to do; he had a lot to think about.

**X**

Cristina's interview with Simone Simons had gone well. Extraordinarily well. Her quotes in the article had been the perfect "Oomph" that they needed. Cristina's assumptions had been right; her boss had been excited that she did all the legwork herself. After complimenting her on an article well done, he announced to her that he was sending her to a Battle of the Bands show on Saturday to cover the bands that were performing. Unfortunately, all of her friends would be on the road, so she would have to cover it by herself. But next Tuesday, Eve had decided it was going to be "Girl's Night". She wanted to give Cristina a makeover.

Tonight was quiet, however. She was brushing up on her WWE history, watching old YouTube video clips of Mike, Eve and Alex. Eve's athleticism impressed Cristina, especially the back flips and the front flips. She watched some old episodes of The Dirt Sheet, laughing at Mike and John Morrison and the ridiculousness of it all. Still, though, Cristina found herself having a hard time reconciling the Mike Mizanin she knew and the Miz that she saw on the videos.

She wondered about Mike's girlfriend. What kind of woman would throw something at him knowing he's injured? And why would Mike still go out of his way to buy her diamonds and gifts? A part of her wondered if he was a battered house husband or something. It was just so strange. She couldn't even begin to wrap her head around it.

**X**

Maryse was out dancing at a club when he slipped in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer back to him as she grinded against him. She leaned forward, whipping her hair to and fro, turning to find herself face-to-face with Dolph Ziggler. She kept grinding her hips, smiling when she began to feel a reaction.

"_Oh, mon…quelqu'un heureux_," Maryse whispered in his ear, licking the outer shell. A smirk crossed her features when she heard Dolph's groan deep in his throat.

"Maryse…you're killing me," he whispered. She turned her back to him, rubbing up against him, eliciting moans as he ran his hands down her hips.

This was just what she needed. There was nothing like this with Mike. Not anymore. Tonight, he was trying to rest at the hotel, not wanting to be noticed, wanting to keep a low-profile. But not Maryse. Maryse was ready to party, ready to live her life, and ready to do things that she had never done before. She felt out-of-body, like a fierce wildcat waiting to be unleashed.

She arched her head back as he kissed the little crook between her neck and her shoulder, letting his tongue run up her neck. "We should go back to my hotel room," he whispered in her ear. "What would you say about that?"

"Mmm…why wait?" Maryse replied, practically groaning. "Your car or mine?"

**X**

Mike was sitting back in his hotel room, with a hot fudge sundae and some old episodes of _Family Guy_. Maryse was out partying tonight; he would be surprised if he would see her back in their hotel room by two.

He had texted a little bit with Cristina. A part of him felt a little bit upset at the idea of missing out on a good, old-fashioned battle of the bands. But he was glad to hear her article on symphonic metal had been so well-received by her boss. Dinner with her, Eve and Alex had been incredible; he found himself a little bit jealous that Maryse would never cook. Mike cooked; he still cooked a bit like a bachelor, though, throwing this, that and the other thing into a pot and hoping it worked. Cristina's food had been amazing; he found himself craving her three cheese and spinach ravioli nightly.

The mock intervention that had been held in his honour tonight was a bit much. He also didn't appreciate the fact that the turbulence in his personal life was beginning to become public knowledge backstage. It was a bit embarrassing. He was stunned that things had deteriorated the way that they had, but he had no idea how to fix things short of breaking up with her. And he wasn't sure just how well she was going to take that solution.

**X**

Eve Torres tossed and turned in her bed. Across the room, Natalya was passed out, her kitty Gismo sleeping at her feet. With a deep sigh, Eve rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling of her darkened hotel room.

He was never going to leave Maryse; she was certain of it. No matter how badly she treated him, there was no way he was ever going to leave. She was beginning to become resigned to the fact that Mike was destined to be miserable. It made her shake her head; how did the nice guy always wind up with the worst women?

She thought about Cristina Cannellucci. Who had actually shown more legitimate concern in one pinkie finger than Maryse had her entire relationship with Mike. She had cleaned his ear even though it was a tiny cut; she was quick to get him aspirin and take him outside when his concussion was too much. The fact that she saw him as an angel who helped her when she was overwhelmed was too sweet for words. Eve wished that Mike could find a beautiful, sweet, caring girl like Cristina. Better yet, maybe when he and Cristina get to know each other better…

Eve shrugged the thought out of her mind. She wasn't sure if it was going to happen or not, but she felt an instant chemistry between the two of them. Cristina Cannellucci would be a huge improvement over Maryse Ouellet any day, at least in Eve's eyes.

**X**

Cristina was in bed, watching the clock tick down to daylight. She couldn't sleep tonight. Something in her bones was telling her that something was wrong with somebody she knew. It was a strange feeling; she wondered if it had to do with her family in Italy. Whatever was going on, she could sense it wasn't anything pleasant.

Turning on her side, she sighed, staring at the empty side of the bed. She couldn't figure out why she had allowed the store to talk her into a double bed when it was just her. But she had splurged, excited at the prospect of being a full-blooded American with a nice, clean apartment, and she had bought the bed. It just reminded her of how lonely she was sometimes. It was comfortable, but to her it was also a double edged sword.

Cristina hadn't had a boyfriend since middle school. They had been intimate, once, but Cristina didn't find it anything to shout on the rooftops about. It had been awkward, painful, and the condom had gotten stuck, sticking her in the hospital. Shortly after, her and her boyfriend broke up, and she remained single ever since. That was about ten years ago.

Sure, she felt some urges, but she pushed them aside. At the moment, she was too focused on her life. And if having a relationship meant putting up with what Mike was putting up with, she wasn't too excited to sign on the dotted line.

It took a cold person to throw something at her injured boyfriend, instead of taking care of him. Instead of making sure he was well-rested in the short time that he had off. Keeping him sated with aspirin, fluids, affection, and anything else that he needed. It just seemed like common sense; she wondered how simple things like that could get lost on people, especially when they claim to one another.

Realizing she wasn't going to fall asleep at that moment, Cristina grabbed _The Dark Tower_ off of the surface of her nightstand, turning on the small touch lamp. Opening the marker, she began to read; she'd been falling behind.

Maryse thought Mike was asleep when she slunk back into her hotel room at three AM, her hair dishevelled, her balance off. She was uttering small curse words in French as she put down the high heeled shoes she held in her hands. Mike thought about confronting her, but he couldn't be bothered; he just kept his eyes shut, determined to keep them that way no matter how loud Maryse was.

He heard things. The flickering of the light in the bathroom. The water running. His eye peeked open; the clock read quarter after. He closed his eyes again as he heard the light flick off and the sound of the zipper on the front of Maryse's dress. No way was he going to acknowledge her tonight. At three AM, he didn't want a fight; he just wanted to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

"Girl's Night!" Eve Torres announced excitedly, entering Cristina's apartment with garbage bags in her clenched fists. She rushed forward, giving Cristina a hug. Cristina had already ordered pizza and bought some candy and things for the girl's night. It had been so long since she had a night with a friend she could relate to. "In my duffel bag I brought a bunch of vampire movies, because I noticed you're a fan."

"What do you have?"

"I found _Nosferatu, Queen of the Damned _and _Shadow of the Vampire_," she announced. "I thought three movies would last us all night if we started when night falls." She dropped the garbage bags. "God, this place is always spotless," Eve commented. "How was your week?"

"Uneventful. Covered a few up-and-coming bands, and my boss got me an interview with the Holy Grail of symphonic metal." Eve's face burrowed.

"That would be…Nightwish?"

"Ha-ha, Eve. No. Within Temptation. They are coming on tour here in a few months, after Sharon den Adel has her baby. He is going to set me up with an interview with the band. He wants to start covering everything across the board after the Epica quotes. It is amazing." She stared at Eve. "Nightwish. You're funny." She grabbed the bags and went into the living room. "Are you moving in or something?"

"You're funny, Cristina. No. These are a bunch of clothes that I don't want. I wanted to see if you wanted anything. Anything you don't want we can send to the Salvation Army. I know you're a little bit smaller than I am, but some of these outfits are pretty snug."

"Diva Wear?"

"_Si._" They laughed. "Man, it must be so cool to be fluent in Italian. It's such a beautiful language."

"Mike and Alex seem to think that. The first time I met Alex, he actually asked me to say something to him in Italian." Eve laughed. "I felt so awkward; they were staring at me all big-eyed in the middle of the mall." Cristina's face turned serious. "Is Mike's girlfriend abusive? That has been bothering me."

Eve sighed. "It's very complicated, Cristina," she confessed. Contemplating her next words, Eve let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her brown hair. "Let's just say that Mike and Maryse aren't a very good match for one another…and it's becoming more and more apparent with each passing day."

"What a shame. Mike is such a nice man," Cristina mused, shaking her head. "Do you think me being friends with him is a problem?"

"I don't know, Cristina," Eve lied. She knew for a fact from the day in the hair salon that Maryse had great issue with Mike being friends with Cristina. But she wanted to spare Cristina's feelings, knowing that she was probably one of the best people in Mike's life at the moment. She clapped her hands, startling Cristina. It was clear that these thoughts had been bothering Cristina for some time, and Eve had no idea just how she was going to spare her feelings. To Eve, though, it wasn't her place to do that. Mike needed to talk to her.

Cristina went to the fridge and grabbed two cans of Pepsi, a deviation in her shopping schedule. "I am very excited for this; I have been looking forward to it all week," she confessed, handing Eve the can. "You are the first girl friend I have made here in America."

"Don't you ever go out?" Eve inquired. Cristina shook her head.

"My accent…it makes me…" Cristina struggled to find the word.

"Self-conscious?" Eve inquired. Cristina nodded, to which Eve smiled sadly. "Your accent is beautiful. Never let anyone tell you any differently."

"_Grazie_, Eve." The two clinked soda cans together.

**X**

Tonight Maryse had gone out. Mike didn't know where; she wouldn't say. The change that he sensed was dramatic. She wasn't acting any differently, but there was something going on that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Mike just knew that he didn't like it.

She was going out by herself. Dressed to the nines in a tiny, tiny black dress that didn't leave room to the imagination; her white-blonde hair up in a high ponytail with a bit of a folded puff at the top. She just stalked past Mike, applying pink gloss to her lips, exiting the house without so much as a goodbye. Mike assumed she was finally going home for a few days since the fighting seemed to be getting worse.

It was going to be a quiet night for Mike, who was set to stream _Old School _on his Netflix. He thought about texting Cristina, but he knew that she and Eve were having a much needed, important girl's night. So he texted Alex, who said he would come right over to watch some _Old School_.

**X**

In the afterglow, Maryse wouldn't allow Chris to touch her. The Masterpiece heaved, sighed, murmured something under his breath, and rolled over with his back to her to get some sleep. They had met at her house.

Maryse was covered to her chest under the blanket, staring at her manicured nails. She had chipped one in Chris' back earlier on, but she doubted Mike would notice. He never notices those kinds of things.

She had rules when she did this; no biting, no marking. No hickeys. That was important. What happened in the room never leaves the room. That way nobody's relationships would be destroyed, hers wouldn't be in jeopardy, and she could get the things that she felt Mike never provided for her. Like a good time.

Chris was sleeping in minutes. That was another rule; never spend the night. She was in a good mood, though; she was going to give him a fifteen minute power nap before sending him on his way and spending the rest of the night at home by herself. A change was coming over Mike, and she didn't like it. She needed a night to think about it.

Maryse wasn't stupid; she had a feeling that Mike's change was coming from the journalist who was in his cell phone. She was also pretty sure he was having an affair on her, even if it was just emotional cheating. Maryse just knew she had to find a way to prove it first.

**X**

Cristina and Eve clinked together wine glasses. They were going through the clothes Eve had brought while _Shadow of the Vampire_ was playing. Cristina had found a few really cute shirts, skirts and dresses that were right up her alley that she was willing to take off of Eve's hands.

"So what is it like being a WWE Diva?" Cristina asked.

"Arduous. Tough. And we're supposed to look sexy all through it," she replied with a laugh. "It has its good and bad," she answered honestly. "We work ourselves hard to get maybe two or three minutes a week. It's hard getting respect when nobody's willing to give you a shot." Cristina nodded. "But I have good friends, I've gotten to travel, and I've reached the pinnacle of my craft twice." She smirked. "What about you? What is it like interviewing musicians and reviewing their albums?"

"It is wonderful," Cristina replied. "I love what I do. Work from home. Do meetings. Interviews. It is great. I am so very excited for Within Temptation in the fall. They are my favourite band."

"That must be so exciting."

"Oh, yes."

"You're still thinking about things between Mike and Maryse, aren't you?" Eve asked. She sighed. "Don't answer. I can see it. Try not to worry about Mike; he's a big boy, and he'll get rid of her when he's ready to."

"It just seems so…dangerous."

"It's getting there. We just have to hope Mike has the good sense to get out while he still can." Cristina thought about what he had told her about not buying rings for her. Everything was starting to add up, and unfortunately, it didn't paint a pretty picture.

**X**

Alex had passed out on the couch after a movie marathon that included _Talladega Nights_ and _Anchorman_. Mike was in the kitchen fixing himself a snack. It was four in the morning; he had passed out during the last movie.

It was clear to him Maryse was not coming back tonight. A part of him wondered where she was, but an even bigger part of him didn't really care. He needed a break. It was kind of clearer to him that Maryse felt she needed a break from him as well. Maybe now was his chance to really think about things.


	10. Chapter 10

Backstage at _Raw_, Mike was hanging out in the locker room with John, Alex, Randy Orton and Ted DiBiase, who was being managed by Maryse. They were crowded around a small television in the locker room, watching the episode of _Raw_ unfold.

"How's that head of yours, Mike?" John inquired. Mike shrugged.

"Better than it was after _WrestleMania,_" he replied. The championship was rested across his lap. He was absentmindedly fingering the diamonds in the belt, eyes on the screen. He and Maryse had fought again; this time she had laid it out there that she didn't want him having _any_ female friends at all. Mike wasn't about to do that. Not just because of Cristina, but because of Eve as well. He had fired back that she should do the same in the male department, but she had screeched and howled in French, in protest. Mike then told her to drop the subject and she went to the arena alone.

He had gone out shopping; buying himself a new pair of sunglasses and a couple new books for the flight home. Mike was excited to crack into _The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo_, as Eve had recommended it to him. He was distracted tonight; it wasn't even things with Maryse that was bugging him. Eve had caught up with him, chastising him for putting her in the position where she would have to answer Cristina's questions about his relationship with Maryse. Mike understood that Cristina was concerned, but he didn't think she would pick up on so much.

**X**

Cristina was sitting alone in her apartment, listening to some new album that she had received from the magazine. She was on her couch, laptop open in front of her, trying to do a track by track synopsis before she began to write up a full-on review.

She had texted a bit with Alex, who confessed to her that things between Mike and Maryse were getting worse. He had gone to pick up Mike, but heard him fighting with Maryse. Alex had texted with Cristina for a half hour before Maryse left and he could approach Mike to go do some shopping before the arena. Cristina felt bad for Mike, who seemed like such a nice guy, who had quickly become one of her best friends.

With great trepidation, she had texted Mike, inviting him, Alex and Eve to another dinner at her apartment. This week, she wanted to make a lasagne. She wanted to start doing that at least once a week. Cristina wanted to tell Mike to invite Maryse, but she was afraid of causing a lot of trouble, or that Maryse would reject the invitation.

Tonight was yet another quiet night for Cristina Cannellucci, with nothing but a glass of red wine and underground punk-pop to keep her company for the night. Her boss was beginning to put more and more assignments on her now that more and more of her co-workers were moving onto greener pastures. It was exciting, she was moving up the ladder fast, but she was nervous that she wouldn't be able to keep up with the demand that seemed to be increasing more and more.

Mike, Alex and Eve were excited with how well she was doing. Girl's night with Eve had been a total treat. She had managed to get some awesome new outfits and they had talked about everything, from Eve's dance experience and her upbringing, to Cristina's family and how much she missed things in Milan. They had watched vampire movies, binged on candy and soda and she had heard Eve tell stories of her travels. It had been an amazing night. Cristina was very thankful that she was finally beginning to make friends.

**X**

Maryse sat in the Divas locker room, rolling her eyes. Eve Torres was in the shower, cleaning up after her match against Natalya. Still dressed in what she arrived in because she had no match tonight, Maryse was sitting around with the Bella Twins, Alicia Fox and Melina.

"You actually gave Mike the ultimatum tonight?" Melina inquired. "What did he say?" Maryse rolled her eyes.

"He told me that I cannot have male friends if he cannot have female friends."

"Oh, hell no," Alicia replied, rolling her eyes and tossing a dark red curl over her shoulder. "He did not!"

"Right?" Maryse sighed. "I think he's cheating on me, ladies. At least emotionally. With this woman…the number I found in his phone."

"The journalist?" inquired Brie. Maryse nodded.

"That would be her." Eve emerged from the shower, tying up the sash on her robe. Maryse turned her hateful eyes on the 2007 Diva Search winner. "You."

"Me?" Eve straightened up from her duffel bag and stared at Maryse. "Are you talking to me, Maryse?"

"_Oui_. I'm talking to you. You can do me a favour, and…how they say…_stay away from my boyfriend_." Eve smirked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Here's a concept, Maryse…um…why don't you…I don't know…how you say…_make me_." Maryse was up in a flash, but Alicia and the Bella girls held her back. Eve grabbed her clothing and disappeared into the shower. But not before she threw out a barb she knew she shouldn't have. "Maybe if you treated him better he wouldn't be needing female friends."

"_Ugh! Je deteste cette salope!_" she howled.

"Simmer down," Melina said to her, glaring back at the shower where Eve was changing and fixing her hair. "She's just trying to push your buttons. Don't buy into it."

**X**

"Have you thought about my ultimatum?" Maryse snapped as she entered the hotel room. Mike was sitting on the bed, watching an old episode of _South Park_. He shut the television off. "You would not believe the way that Eve spoke to me tonight…_comment ose-t-elle me faire la lecon sur la facon d'etre une bonne petite amie!_"

Mike sighed. "Maryse…I really don't care tonight." Her eyes blazed.

"Aren't you going to say something? Aren't you going to _defend_ me?" she howled. "How dare you be friends with the people who hate me!"

"How dare I have friends at all," Mike murmured sarcastically. She slapped him hard across the face, rocking his head back.

"_Comment osez-vous me parler comme ca_!" she shrieked. Mike knew what that meant; "How dare you speak to me like that!" He sighed, the stinging in his face a distraction.

"Maryse, I don't think this is working out," Mike replied. "Maybe I should just ask for my key back." She was taken aback by what he was saying, but she scoffed.

"Yeah, right. Like you're breaking up with me." She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. It was an icy kiss; cold to the touch. "Deal with Eve. Get rid of her. Get rid of that woman in your phone as well. I'm going out. _Ne pas attendre jusqu'a_." Mike knew what that one meant, too; she was more or less telling him not to wait out for her while she went out with her friends to tell them that she had laid down the law to Mike yet again. She turned on her heels and made her way out the door. "You're not leaving me, Mike. That's all there is to it."

**X**

Cristina sat back in the hot as she could stand it bubble bath, the new Kidneythieves album in her portable CD player. The song was "Velveteen", and she was leaned back against the wall, eyes closed in relaxation. Mike, Eve and Alex were going to be back tomorrow afternoon, and she had set up the next dinner for Thursday, when she got paid. Eve offered to bake a dessert, while Alex offered to bring the wine and Mike offered to stop by the market to buy some rolls and salad. It was going to be a great night.

"_Con la gira, gira, gira della mia vita, sai la, deviare, scarti della mia vita…_" Cristina sang under her breath. Tonight she had decided not to have her glass of red wine, instead just having it with her dinner. It had been a great, quiet night and she had gotten her review finished and sent in early. She was very proud of herself. Now, all she had left to do was get out of the bathtub,brush her teeth, put on her pyjamas and get some sleep. She was ecstatic that her friends would be home tomorrow.

**X**

Dolph Ziggler sighed; Maryse had turned her back to him yet again. She always did this. He wondered how Mike put up with it.

She had caught up with him at a club where the girls danced on tables and men picked them up while hammered on hardcore liquor. Maryse wasn't employed there, but it didn't stop her from climbing onto a table while her friends watched, dancing like a complete stripper, running her manicured hands through her over-bleached hair.

Sex with Maryse was pretty perfunctory. Nothing to write home about. She did her thing, he did his thing, and then she would roll over and fall asleep, or at least pretend to, while her partners would lie beside her, wondering what they did wrong. Dolph wondered if he was just the other man, or if she had a bevy of Superstars at her beck and call. He didn't know. Her rule was everything stayed between them. It was imperative. He didn't have a girlfriend, but Maryse had Mike, who Dolph did like. He even kind of felt bad about the fact that he was sleeping with his girlfriend. The way he saw it was that there were huge problems that needed to be worked out that had nothing to do with him and Maryse.

**X**

Eve Torres was talking to Natalya, relaying to her what had happened between her and Maryse earlier on in the night in the Divas locker room. Natalya listened sympathetically, not uttering a word of judgment.

"Did I do something wrong acting the way I did, Nat?" Eve inquired. Natalya shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Not at all. Maryse is just a bitch. I can't figure out what on Earth Mike sees in her." She sighed, settling under the blankets. "Such a nice guy, but to be stuck with _that_…I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. It would be great if Mike found somebody new. Somebody who would treat him like he deserves to be treated."

"Well, there is somebody, but if Mike doesn't leave Maryse, I think the opportunity could slip through his fingers," Eve confessed, getting under her blankets.

"Is this the mysterious woman in the phone that's been making the rounds in the Divas locker room?" Natalya inquired. Eve nodded. "Tell me a little bit about her."

"Cristina is a music journalist. She's stunning. She has only been here a couple of months; she moved to Los Angeles from Milan, Italy. Self-taught herself English. The way she dotes on Mike whenever he's around is totally cute."

"How did he meet her, do you know?"

"She said that he helped her find her way when she was lost. It's so cute; she sees him as something of a guardian angel that was sent to her to help her find her way and give her a friend." A thought hit Eve. "Maybe you should talk to TJ and come home with me this week; we're doing dinner on Thursday; you could come and meet her."

"I should. It'd be something great to hold over Maryse's head." Eve and Natalya laughed before settling in for bed.

**X**

Maryse slunk back into the hotel room at about four-thirty in the morning. Mike was already up and gone to the gym for an early morning workout. She was thankful that he was gone.

She couldn't believe his nerve, asking for his key back, telling her it's over. Just who on Earth did he think he was? Maryse Ouellet is a _Playboy_ model, a WWE Diva, a former Divas champion and a glamour model; he would be an idiot to leave her, and for what? Some journalist who was probably half the woman she is.

She slid off her dress, took a quick shower, got into her favourite satin nightgown, and slid under the covers, hoping to get a couple hours of shut-eye before she had to get up and go do her Diva Duties for the day. Never for a second did she think that Mike was right in what he said; she was more than willing to juggle Dolph and Chris.

Maryse thought back to what Eve had told her. How dare she! And for Mike to take her side; she couldn't believe him. "He'd better show up with a huge diamond tomorrow," she snapped to herself, curling the blankets tighter around her. The balls on that guy; she just made a mental note to emasculate him more and more until he was no longer what was seen on TV.


	11. Chapter 11

Cristina's cooking was in full swing when Alex, Mike, Eve and Natalya arrived on Thursday afternoon. She opened the door, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, dressed sloppily in baggy jeans and a white T-shirt. "_Bonjourno,_" Cristina replied, hugging each and every one of them.

"Cristina, this is Natalie…"

"Natalya…yes, I recognize you from several matches." She stepped to the side. "Please…come in. I am running a little behind on dinner. I had to go and get a few albums from my boss."

"It's no big deal," Mike replied, flashing her a smile. They all entered the apartment. Mike handed her the bag with the rolls and salad, while Alex handed her the bottle of red wine he had picked up.

"_Grazie_," Cristina replied, heading into the kitchen to place everything down on the counter. Mike was behind her in seconds, opening the oven door and looking in on the lasagne.

"Man, that lasagne looks mouth-watering," Mike replied. Cristina turned to him, smiling. "I love coming over here for dinner; it's the one time a week someone cooks for me." Cristina shot him a sympathetic gaze. She couldn't imagine what kind of a woman his girlfriend must have been; not taking care of him, throwing vases at him while he's injured. The entire situation baffled her.

"It is my mother's recipe," Cristina replied. Mike grinned.

"Well, if it's as good as the ravioli last week…" Cristina laughed. Natalya entered the kitchen with a wide smile on her face.

"What's all the laughing about in here?" she inquired.

"Mike is…drooling…over my cooking," Cristina replied. Natalya laughed.

"Christ, Mike, you'd think Maryse never feeds you."

"She doesn't!" Mike laughed, reaching into the fridge and grabbing cans of 7-Up for everyone. He looked through the glass at the cooking lasagne.

"Are you going to pace a trench in her kitchen waiting for the lasagne?" Natalya teased. Eve was behind Natalya in seconds.

"Close enough," Eve retorted. They laughed. "Come on, guys…out of the kitchen, let Cristina cook in peace." Reluctantly, Mike and Natalya left the kitchen while Cristina set about getting plates and glasses and silverware ready for everybody. Eve was back in the kitchen in seconds, followed by everyone else, despite the fact that Eve had just thrown everybody out. Cristina handed Eve the plates and silverware, the glasses to Alex and Mike grabbed her a wicker bowl that she poured the rolls into. She handed it back to Mike to take to the table, while Natalya got the red wine. The lasagne would be ready in minutes; the cheese was already beginning to bubble, the corners were beginning to crisp.

When dinner was ready, they all took their seats around the table, with poor Natalya sitting on a spare folding chair that Eve had brought with her. Mike started shovelling the lasagne in his mouth, burning his tongue in the process. "Be careful, _il mio amico_," she soothed. "Can I get you a soda?"

"I'll be okay," Mike assured her. Eve took a careful bite.

"This is great, Cristina. You really have to give me the recipe for this; I think my boyfriend would go wild." Natalya nodded in agreement.

"Sure. The recipe is on the counter if you would like it before you go." Everybody was sipping on red wine, talking about their travels, while Natalya got to know Cristina better. "Are you okay for doing this next Wednesday again?" Cristina inquired.

"Don't have to ask me twice," Mike replied with a snicker. The fact that his tongue was burnt was not deterring him from inhaling his dinner. "Give me a time and a place, I'll be here."

"He's hooked," Eve commented with a smirk. "Cristina will have him coming for dinner for life."

**X**

Maryse was pacing a trench in the living room of Mike's house when he walked in. "Oh, well, it's about time," Maryse replied with a roll of her eyes. "How are things with your _putain_?" Mike rolled his eyes, just stalking past her, into the bathroom for a shower, leaving her seething in the living room.

She was going to have to start finding a way to catch him in the act. Find a way to meet this woman. Maryse was curious; she wanted to know what she was "up against". She couldn't see the woman being half as beautiful as her. What Mike was doing gallivanting with other women, she didn't know. All he needed was right there in her beautiful body that she showed off to him every once in a while to throw him a bone.

The water was running; he was probably washing the evidence of her off of him. She wanted to storm in there and inspect him, but she knew he had locked the door behind him. There would be no proving it tonight; but surely, sooner or later, she would catch him in the act.

**X**

"Wow, Eve…she is fucking _stunning_," Natalya commented as they walked into Eve's house. "You said she was beautiful, but I had no idea…did you see the way she acted when he burned his tongue? Oh, my God, it was so cute!"

"I know. The way she dotes on him is so amazing. There is so much compassion and understanding in her. It's just crazy. I'm hoping that Mike is going to see very quickly that Maryse needs to go and he needs to get together with Cristina. It would be a complete shame if he wasted this opportunity with her."

"True enough," Natalya replied. "Does she know much about Maryse?"

"She does," Eve conceded. "She's seen some of her matches. The entire relationship between her and Mike seems to confuse her just based on all the turbulence she's heard about."

"It would baffle anyone; I can't even figure out why Mike stays with someone who has such little regard for him," Natalya replied.

"Love, sex...it complicates _everything_, I suppose," Eve mused. "I just wish that Mike would understand that there is somebody out there that's not going to throw vases at his head and issue constant ultimatums when he tries to be himself."

**X**

Maryse had left by the time Mike got out of the shower, without so much as a word about where she was going. The surprising thing was that he didn't care.

She was disappearing more and more lately, for longer and longer stints of time before she would come slinking back to him. A nagging part of him was pretty sure that she was cheating on him with somebody on the roster; somebody who lived in the area. But who? He couldn't be sure. But it was something he was picking up on; after all, he and Maryse hadn't been intimate in _months_. She was no longer interested in him in that way anymore…she just seemed to keep him around because she enjoyed making him miserable. And it wasn't healthy for anyone involved. It was just toxic.

He thought about the differences between Maryse and Cristina. Even though he knew it wasn't right that he was comparing the two, the differences between his girlfriend and his friend was so glaring that he couldn't help it. Cristina cooked for him, took care of him when he hurt himself, doted on him, made sure he was comfortable. Maryse didn't care. She did what she wanted, when she wanted, and if Mike said anything, then she didn't hear it. What was good for her was too good for Mike.

**X**

Cristina was tossing and turning in bed, having the hardest time falling asleep. Everybody had left a little later than normal, but she couldn't help but notice that Mike was slightly more distracted than usual, and she was pretty sure it had to do with his girlfriend.

She still couldn't understand why he wasn't leaving her, but she knew better than to judge him. There were obviously things going on that she wasn't aware of, but she knew that she just wanted to see him happy. A part of her wanted him to be happy with her, but judging from the woman she had seen in the video against Eve, she was very far from Mike's type.

Maryse was a white blonde French-Canadian woman with a rock solid body; Cristina was a skinny dark-haired Italian who never worked out but still managed to stay skinny thanks to a stupidly fast metabolism. It seemed like Maryse enjoyed life in the fast lane, and maybe Mike was attracted to that, but Cristina was more than okay with living a low-profile. She didn't need fame and fortune to be happy.

With an aggravated sigh, Cristina rolled onto her other side. If only sleep would overtake her, then things would be so much easier in her dreams. Things wouldn't feel so strange, so foreign, so complicated. She just hoped that whatever Mike was doing, he was happy.


	12. Chapter 12

"Mike? What's wrong, _il mio amico_?" Cristina inquired as she opened the door. Mike was dishevelled, his hair down around his face, a bottle of beer in his hand. He was inebriated, and it was obvious that he had walked to her apartment, somehow - miraculously - avoiding a public intoxication charge by the police. His clothing was in disarray, thrown together; his eyes vacant. She took him by the hands and led him inside, closing the door behind her with her foot.

"Dolph…Chris…" Mike murmured. "And she accused _me_."

"Sit down, sit down," she assured him, setting him down on the couch. She took the beer bottle from him and put some coffee on to brew. Mike was still murmuring and mumbling on the couch. He looked so lost that it was absolutely devastating.

When coffee was ready and Mike had some time to think and sober up, Cristina sat down beside him on the couch, handing him the mug and sipping from hers. "What is the matter, Mike? You look like a mess."

He sipped his coffee. "Thanks, Cristina. I didn't know who else to come to."

"What is the matter?"

"It's Maryse. I, uh, had A-Ri tail her the other night. I've been having my suspicions lately…she's been disappearing a lot, reappearing later. Fighting more often; not wanting anything to do with me. Anyway, A-Ri caught her with not one, but _two _guys. This entire time, she's been playing me for an idiot…and I'll bet the entire roster knows it…" He put his head in his hands. "I am so stupid."

"You are not," Cristina assured him.

"I am…"

"You are not. She is stupid. How she can not see what she has is crazy." He looked up at Cristina, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"Do you really feel that way, Cristina?"

"Very much so," she informed him, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. "It is obvious she is not good for you, Mike."

"She won't let me leave. She just wants to drag me down," Mike murmured, sipping on his coffee. "I should have known better. People warned me, you know." She didn't know what to say to that. Mike turned to her. "I'm not in love with her, Cristina. And with each day that goes on, I find myself despising her. Hating her even. And I don't like feeling that way." The tears began to spill over. "I feel like a total idiot…"

"She is the idiot, Mike," she informed him, placing a comforting hand on his face to brush away the tears. He put his hand over hers.

There was something different in his eyes now. Cristina could sense it; it made her heart quicken. He leaned forward, lips touching. Cristina tried to pull away, but he pulled her closer by the back of her head, his breath a mixture of coffee and beer. The second his lips had touched hers, she felt her soul ignite. She placed her hands on his face and pulled herself back. "You are drunk, Michael," she informed him. "This is not right. You do not know what you are doing…"

"I know exactly what I'm doing," he informed her, leaning in to kiss her again. Against her better judgment, she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck on her couch, allowing him to pull her against. She could feel him becoming aroused, could hear the groans starting in the back of his throat, escaping his mouth and flowing into hers. His lips travelled from hers, to the side of her neck, the crook of her neck and shoulder, eliciting moans from her as he began to feel her hot skin underneath her baby blue blouse. His hands cupped the front, resting over the lace covered mounds of skin that were scorching hot to the touch. She jumped, startled by the jolt that coursed through her. Cristina pulled back.

"Are you sure about this?" she breathed. It was taking everything to try and keep control of herself. A huge part of her wanted this; she had been fantasizing about it everywhere for a week or two, but now that it was happening, she was afraid that she was taking advantage of him. This wasn't the way that she envisioned it.

Mike responded by unbuttoning her blouse, leaning forward to kiss the exposed patches of skin that popped up every time a button came loose. She was melting fast, he could tell. He was losing his mind as well, enraptured by every sound she made, every movement. He felt dizzy, overwhelmed by the passion that was erupting between them. There had been chemistry since the first time they had met, and now here they were, acting on it. He could tell she was reluctant, but at the moment, he needed this. He needed her; ever inch of her.

She pulled back, gasping for air from another passionate kiss that had left them both breathless. "Why don't we retire to your bedroom?" he breathed. Against her better judgment, she nodded, allowing him to pick her up, wrapping her legs around him as he carried her into her bedroom.

**X**

Eve was frantically trying to reach Mike on his phone, but there was no answer. "God damn it, Mike," she cursed under her breath, "You'd better not be doing something stupid."

A-Ri had texted Eve, informing her that he and Mike had both found out that Maryse was cheating on him with several members on the roster. From what Alex had told her, he had pretty much shut down. Hung up on him. And now everybody was phoning, but nobody was answering. She hung up her phone, sighing in frustration before she thought to call Cristina. There was no answer there, either. She only hoped that Mike was there and Cristina was helping him through his tough time.

She was pacing a trench in her living room, fighting the urge to drive to Maryse and lay the boots to her. Why anybody would take such pleasure in hurting Mike was beyond her; he had always been a tremendous friend, going out of his way to try and make people happy. And now, here he was, miserable, heartbroken and presumably drunk, and nobody could get a hold of him. It was infuriating.

**X**

Maryse's heart sank into her high priced stilettos when she saw the photograph of Chris Masters entering her house laid out on the counter. It was dark, the cover of night, and there was no possible reason why he would have been there, except for the obvious. She picked up the photograph, noticing another photo underneath. This one was of her and Dolph in a club, where she had practically jumped him.

"_Baiser!_" Maryse shouted, dropping the photos. "Mike! Mike!" She ran up the stairs, searching the house for any sign of him, but he was nowhere around. Coming back into the kitchen, paled, she held onto the pictures, sinking down to the floor, her head in her hands. There was no way she could possibly talk her way out of it; she knew it. Mike had somebody _spy_ on her; so he obviously had his suspicions. She couldn't understand it; she had been so careful, how on Earth did he figure her out?

**X**

Cristina awakened at three-fifty in the morning, stunned to find the other side of the bed empty. Her body aching, she wrapped the bed sheet around her and exited the room. "Michael?" she whispered. The entire apartment was dark. She began to panic, thinking he had left, had used her, but breathed a sigh of relief when she saw his shape standing out on the balcony.

Her body was deliciously sore from what had happened between her and Mike. She felt a little bit of shame washing over her about it; she felt she had taken advantage of Mike's pain, and that this was only going to make a complicated situation worse, but the way every nerve ending had felt when he was inside of her, when he was kissing her…it was too much for her not to regret. Making her way to the door, she startled Mike when she opened it and stepped out there with him.

"Michael? Are you all right?" she asked. He turned to her, his eyes forlorn and sorrowful. He looked so cute, dressed back in the clothing he had arrived in the night before.

"I am so, so sorry, Cristina," he told her, his eyes shining in the lightening darkness. "I'm a horrible, terrible person. This isn't fair to you." She reached out and touched his face, her free hand keeping the bed sheet wrapped around her slender frame.

"_Nessuno guarda mai bene al microscopio_," Cristina said to him softly.

"I don't know what that means," he confessed sheepishly. A small smile crossed her features.

"It means that…nobody ever looks good under a microscope. You will do well to remember that, Michael." She moved her hand from his face. "Come back to bed. Get a few hours sleep and decide what you want to do in the morning."

"Cristina…"

"Not another word. Get back into bed and sleep." He nodded, opening the sliding glass door and going back to the bedroom. She turned, staring out at the beautiful Los Angeles morning before turning to follow Mike.

**X**

Maryse was concerned; Mike hadn't come home. If anybody had seen him, nobody was telling her. Desperate, she had even called Eve, who had coolly observed that she had gotten out from under somebody long enough to notice her boyfriend wasn't around. Offended, Maryse had just hung up on her without even asking her about Mike.

It wasn't like Mike to just disappear and not come back. No matter how angry he was with her, how brutal their fight had been, he had always come back. For the first time in her entire life, Maryse knew what it felt like to be powerless, and she hated the feeling.

She went into the living room, laying down on the couch. Her eyes rested on an old picture of him with the _Real World_ cast. He had looked so happy back then. There was nothing more she could do to try and find him; after a while, her eyes finally closed and a restless slumber overtook her.


	13. Chapter 13

Mike never intended for it, but he had gone for weeks without talking to Cristina. He was trying hard to get rid of Maryse so he could try and forge a relationship with Cristina, but it was proving downright impossible thanks to the resistance that Maryse was kicking up. Since being caught, she had cried, begged, pleaded and sobbed for him to forgive her, but he couldn't. Not this time. As it was, there was an enormous wave of guilt that washed through him, for what he had perceived to be cheating on Maryse, and taking advantage of Cristina's vulnerability and her hospitality. He was ashamed of himself, but he still remained firm on not taking Maryse back. She didn't deserve it; he had to draw the line somewhere, and this was a pretty good, thick line, at least that's how it seemed to him.

She was supposed to be moving her things out of his house this week after a six week battle that had seen them fighting non-stop, with Maryse the one pleading for him not to leave her and find somebody else. Mike didn't care anymore, though. There was nothing that she could say that was going to make him change his mind, especially after the magical night he had with Cristina. Well, he supposed it was as magical as humanly possible for a guy who was drunk and a girl who was unsure about everything that was going on in his life. For the past six weeks, he had been replaying that night over and over in his mind; that's how he knew that he was past Maryse and her games. Now he knew that he just wanted Cristina, and he was willing to do anything to be with her.

Alex was coming over to keep him company while Maryse came and gathered her things and left her keys. Mike had already packed up the things she had left here, excited to purge her presence from his home. A-Ri would be over any minute and from there, it would just be the waiting game. He had already warned Maryse that if she did not show up for her things, he'd just leave them on the front lawn for her. She had cried; wailed, sobbed about how sorry she was, but Mike didn't care. He realized that the only reason she was sorry was because he had caught her. Nothing more, nothing less.

Eve Torres pulled into Mike's driveway, volunteering to keep him company with Alex while Maryse came and gathered her stuff. She was pretty well aware that her presence would drive Maryse over the edge, but she didn't care. Today, she was here for her friend who had been absolutely devastated by things.

Something strange was going on, though. She had hardly heard from Cristina lately, and Cristina had admitted she hadn't heard from Mike in weeks. Eve couldn't help but wonder if they had a falling out; if something had happened to sever whatever beautiful thing was developing between them.

Alex was already there, helping Mike stack boxes in the main hallway. "Hey, guys. She's finally coming to get her stuff?"

"Yeah. Then she's leaving me my key and she is _gone_," Mike announced with an enormous smile on his face. "I can't wait!"

"I can't say I blame you there," Eve replied. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine," Mike replied. "I'm past her. I realize that now."

"How is she taking things?" Eve inquired. Mike laughed.

"She's upset she got caught. She wants things to work out, but I'm past her. I have no interest in it." Eve was hoping that he had his heart set on Cristina now that Maryse was starting to fade from the picture.

**X**

Maryse arrived at Mike's, dressed head to toe in black, with enormous black glasses on her face to hide the puffiness from all of her crying. She was hoping that Mike wouldn't go through with this at the last minute, but she noticed he wasn't alone. Alex was over, and Eve was over. It made her blood hot to see Eve and Alex, but she had to try and keep her composure. Mike needed to see she was a different person now; that she had been humbled, humiliated.

She entered the house, leaving her sunglasses on. "Your boxes are in the foyer. You don't need to come in any further," Mike replied from the head of the stairs. He was sitting on the top step, a fedora slanted over his face. Maryse fought the urge to let her face crack and cry, and just began to grab a couple of boxes.

"I'll help you," Eve offered. Maryse was going to object, but Eve had already grabbed a box, helping her take it to the car.

"I bet you're real happy about this, Eve," she replied. Eve sighed.

"I just want my friend to be happy. This isn't making him happy. You should have thought before you did what you did. There are other women out there that will take him and not cause him the pain you have."

"Mind your business," Maryse retorted.

"Get your stuff," Eve snapped back. Maryse resisted the urge to slap Eve, instead going back in the house to grab her last box, throwing the keys at Mike, who caught them. She turned on her heels and left as Eve closed the door behind her.

**X**

Cristina paced back and forth in her bathroom, staring at her watch. Six weeks. She hadn't heard from Mike in six weeks; she wondered if she had done something wrong, said something wrong. He wasn't talking to her, returning her text messages, her calls. There was something wrong with him. Not only that, but there was something wrong with her.

She sensed a change coming over her. It was something different. Her dreams were becoming weirder and weirder; she was tired all of the time. She did some online reading and scared herself to death before she went to the drug store.

Her pacing stopped. She checked the watch again. Grabbing the stick off of the counter, she grabbed the home pregnancy box and checked to see if it corresponded. She dropped everything and sank down to the floor.

She was pregnant.

How on Earth was she going to tell Mike? Especially since he wasn't returning any of her messages. Did he not want anything to do with her? She had never felt so conflicted, so used, so afraid in her entire life. Sure, she made enough to survive with her magazine job, but she wasn't rich; not by any means. There was no way she could afford a baby. The tears began to fall from her eyes.

Unsure of where things stood with Mike and Maryse, Cristina felt like a total whore. She knew better, but she acted on what she wanted, not what was right. And now she was going to pay for it. The fear was overwhelming, her breathing began to become panicked until she steadied herself. Who could she tell? Eve? No way, she'd run to Mike about this. She couldn't tell Mike; not until she knew where things stood between them. A-Ri would tell Mike, too, and it didn't feel right saying anything to anybody when Mike had no idea.

She would be around six weeks along now. Six weeks since she and Mike had shared that night in her bedroom, a night that had replayed over and over in her head since it had happened. Now, she didn't know what to do. The terror was very real.

Her mother would be so ashamed of her. So would her father; being old-fashioned, having kids when you're married kind of Catholics. She clutched her hair tightly in her hands, her mind racing with options. What was she going to do? Cristina knew she needed to talk to Mike first before she made a decision, but the possibility that never again would she hear from Mike was feeling all too real to her.


	14. Chapter 14

She walked into the apartment, her nose crinkling in distaste at the little place. There was an aura of superiority that hung around her; her stance was regal, erect, like a queen's. Cristina shut the door behind her and followed her into the living room. The blonde woman took her sunglasses off, her eyes cold and hardened.

"Do you know who I am?" she inquired hotly. Cristina nodded.

"You would be Maryse."

"It's taken me a long time to track you down, Mademoiselle Cannellucci. Let me be frank with you; I know what has been going on between you and my boyfriend, and I want it to stop."

"You want me to stop making him dinner?" Maryse laughed, shallow peals of laughter that sent uncomfortable chills down Cristina's spine.

"Don't play dumb with me." She began to walk around Cristina, examining her. "You are a little prettier than I imagined, but you are still _nothing_ compared to me." She pinched the tender flesh on Cristina's triceps, but Cristina refused to give her the satisfaction of crying out. "Look at the fatness there," Maryse drawled, her words dripping with poison. "And that flat, limp hair. My God, he really went slumming."

"Slumming?" Maryse laughed at her incomprehension. It stopped abruptly, and she loomed her face closer into Cristina, who was already visibly uneasy and uncomfortable at Maryse's presence, and the coldness that radiated from her.

"I mean it, _putain_, stay away from my boyfriend, or I swear you'll pay for it."

"Leave," Cristina commanded; she had enough of being intimidated in her own home. "You are not welcome here." Maryse grinned.

"Remember my words." Before Cristina could do anything, Maryse shoved her hard, sending her over the end table, knocking a lamp over in the process. Cristina landed hard, folded like an accordion, glass stabbing into her all over the place. Maryse loomed over her again, a nasty smirk on her face. "Remember my words." With that, she put her sunglasses on and turned on her heels, leaving the apartment.

Cristina lay on the floor, trying to catch her breath, but the pains in her stomach were incredibly sharp. The lit light bulb that had shattered in the fall was burning into her, cutting into her, but she couldn't catch her breath to react to it.

She struggled to sit up, but she couldn't. The pain was intense; she thought of the baby. Sliding herself over to the couch, stopping every inch or so to try and catch her breath. She managed to get a hold of her cell phone, dialling 911 before she slipped into unconsciousness.

**X**

Eve Torres was trying to get in touch with Cristina, whom she hadn't heard from in a few days. There was no answer. Dismissing it as she was probably meeting with her boss, she hung up the phone, thinking nothing of it. She turned to Mike, who was sitting with her in the café, sipping on coffee with her. "Did you and Cristina have a fight?" Eve inquired.

"No," Mike answered, keeping his gaze down.

"I haven't heard you talk about her in weeks…she hasn't invited us over for dinner…Mike, level with me…what happened?"

"Nothing, all right?" It clicked in with Eve and her eyes widened.

"Oh, my God…" she hushed her voice. "You two slept together!"

"Eve!"

"Don't hide it from me, Mike. I can see it; for Christ sakes you're blushing!"

"Okay. I did; I slept with her. And I feel horrible about it, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because it was after I found out about what Maryse had done…Cristina was trying to be the voice of reason, but I wasn't having it…I wanted her." He ran his hand through his Mohawk. "I'm ashamed of myself."

"What? Are you serious? And you're leaving her to wonder if she did something to upset you? Mike, that's not right." Eve sipped her coffee. "Look, you may need time now that things with Maryse are over, but you need to see Cristina and at least talk to her about things. Let her know where she stands; I don't think you liked the feeling very much when you were in her shoes."

"No. You're right," he conceded. He was distracted; Eve could see it. She wondered why she couldn't get in touch with Cristina.

**X**

Cristina came to at nightfall, hooked up to machinery that beeped quietly. She was completely alone in her hospital room. Terrified, she pressed the nurse's call button, hoping that somebody would come for her and tell her what had happened.

A young male nurse entered the room, a soft smile tugging at his features. "Hello there, Ms. Cannellucci. It's about time you woke up."

"What happened to me?" It came back to her. Maryse. Pinching at her arms, tugging at her hair, pushing her over the coffee table. She had told her that she and Mike were still together, trying to make it work, despite the fact that Maryse had cheated on him with at least two people that Mike had named.

She remembered something else. "My baby…"

His face softened. "I'm really very sorry, Ms. Cannellucci…the force of your landing…it was just too much too early." She nodded, closing her eyes, feeling the tears flow and the depression set in. The devastation was more overwhelming that she had realized, considering she was terrified at the idea of being pregnant in the first place. "Is there anybody I can notify of your whereabouts?" Cristina shook her head; for the first time since she had arrived in America from Italy, she had never felt so alone. The male nurse nodded, offered her food - which she declined - and then left. Outside it was raining. Cristina stared out the window, allowing the tears to flow freely down her face.

As the hours wore on, Cristina was surprised to find that the tears refused to dry up. Finally, at around three in the morning, she hit the call button and gave the nurse the number of Eve Torres for when she was released, under the condition that the nurses not tell Eve what had happened to her.

**X**

Eve was there to meet Cristina when she was released. "Jesus, Cristina, what on Earth happened?" She hugged her tightly.

"I blacked out," Cristina replied numbly. After hours of trying to come up with an excuse, Cristina realized that she couldn't really come up with anything good. Lecturing Cristina on being more careful, Eve led Cristina to her car and drove her back to her apartment.

Setting Cristina up in her bed, Eve decided to stay for a few hours and monitor Cristina just in case something happened again. The lamp was broken, there was blood on the floor. "Hell of a fall," Eve murmured to herself. She grabbed some wet wipes and sopped up the blood, using Saran wrap as makeshift gloves. Throwing out the debris, erasing all traces of what had happened, Eve sat down in front of the television and put on whatever movie was in the DVD player. It turned out to be _Repo! The Genetic Opera._

Halfway through the movie, Eve needed to go to the bathroom. When she was finished, washing her hands, she noticed something that caught her eye in the garbage can. Reaching down she pulled the box and the stick out of the trash, examining it. She looked back at the door, then at the test.

Something was not sitting right.

**X**

Mike was contemplating whether or not to send Cristina a text. Time had gone by too long not to talk to her. He felt like a jerk for leaving it so long, but he needed to make sure everything was smooth before he proceeded with his life. At the moment, he was having thoughts of asking her to move in with him, even though he knew it was ridiculously quick.

He was sitting at home with Alex, sipping on beer, watching some _Viva La Bam_, talking about Cristina and where Mike saw things going with her. Alex had no idea that Mike had been intimate with Cristina, even though Eve knew. "So, are you going to come right out and tell her how you feel about her?" he inquired. Mike shrugged.

"I know I should…I'm just afraid she's going to hate me."

"What for? Look, there's no shame in just putting it out there and letting her know. She can't make decisions based on what she doesn't know." Mike wanted to point out that he knew how she felt and she knew how he felt, but things were a little bit complicated, and he wasn't up to announcing to the entire world that he had slept with her. It wasn't that he regretted it; he just regretted the circumstances.

Mike sighed and picked up his cell phone. "I'll give her a text. I've been missing her lately anyways."

**X**

When Cristina awakened, she was floored to see Eve sitting beside her with the pregnancy test in her hand. "We need to talk Cristina."

Cristina sat up in her bed. The tears were filling up behind her eyes again. She should have taken that down to the Dumpster; it was devastating to look at. "Cristina…you're pregnant." Cristina shook her head. "It's right here, Cristina. Are you understanding what I'm saying?"

"I am not pregnant anymore," she confessed. She sighed, sitting back against the headboard. Eve stared at her, eyes wide.

"I am so sorry," Eve replied. "What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Was it the black out?" she asked. Cristina nodded. There was a tense silence between the two of them. "Was the baby Mike's?"

Cristina turned away from Eve, and it was the only answer that she needed. "Does Mike know about this?" Eve inquired. Cristina shook her head.

"Please…not a word. Don't hurt him…he deserves better." Cristina's eyes rested on the test. "Please…get rid of that. I cannot look." Eve nodded, disappearing into the kitchen to dispose of it. She came back as Cristina wiped her eyes away.

"Cristina, you shouldn't be going through this alone. Mike wouldn't allow it if he knew," Eve informed her. "Please…let me call him. Let me bring him here." Cristina wanted to see him, but not under these circumstances.

"No. Not now. I can't."


	15. Chapter 15

Mike had been texting back and forth with Cristina, but he could tell things were different. Her words seemed distant, not full of life, like he had come to expect from her. He had a nagging suspicion that it had to do with that night; did she regret it? He didn't, but he sure didn't like what led to it.

Maryse was still trying to get back together with him, doing all she could to prove she was a changed woman, but he didn't care. When Eve had told him Cristina has been sick, he could tell there was more to the story than that, but he never pressed the issue and Eve never spoke of it.

Alex said that he noticed a stark difference in Cristina's text messages to them, but conceded that if she was sick it's understandable that she wouldn't be her usual cheerful stuff. But Mike still had that little sneaking suspicion that there was something going on; just how he was going to prove it was the mystery.

John approached Mike. "Hey, man, you ready for tonight?"

"Yeah. Yeah." John gave Mike the once-over.

"What's up, man? Head's not in the game. What's the problem?"

"Nothing," Mike lied. John could tell Mike wasn't being truthful with him, but he wasn't about to push the issue. He and Mike were friends, but they weren't that close; it wasn't any of his business if Mike wasn't up for talking about it.

"You going to be okay for tonight?" John inquired. "I need you focused."

"Yeah. I'll be fine," Mike reassured him. "Don't you worry about that."

**X**

"I met Mike's mistress," Maryse announced, walking into the Divas locker room. Melina, Alicia Fox, Brie and Nikki Bella, Eve Torres and Natalya all looked up. There was a startled look on Eve's face.

"What?" Alicia Fox breathed.

"No way!" Melina excitedly clamoured. She cleared a path for Maryse to sit down beside her. "What is she like?"

"Well…she isn't three hundred pounds. But she has just the flattest black hair. And an accent. She is kind of fat, though."

"Where did you meet her?" Nikki Bella inquired. Maryse smiled.

"I found out her last name and found her apartment in the phone book. Not hard at all. She let me walk right in."

"You're kidding," Brie replied. "What happened?"

"I told her to stay away from Mike. She's not half the woman I am and she's not going to stand in the way of him and I getting back together."

Eve's mind was spinning. It had been killing her not telling Mike the real reason Cristina was so distant and vacant, and now she had the feeling that Cristina wasn't fully telling her the truth about her hospital stay. Maryse couldn't have known she was pregnant; Eve was the only one who knew outside of the doctors. Suddenly, Eve wanted to be on the first plane out to see Cristina and get the truth from her, if it killed her.

"You and Mike are _not_ getting back together," Eve replied. Everybody looked up and back at Eve. Maryse's eyes narrowed.

"Excuse me? But I believe no one was talking to you, _putain_," she snapped. Eve smirked at her defensiveness. "So, why don't you just shut up?"

"I would, but you're feeding the girls total bullshit," Eve retorted with a roll of her eyes. "Did you mention to the girls that the reason Mike dumped your ass is because he found out you were sleeping with two other guys on the roster…and that's just what he knows about. God only knows who else you've bagged back here." Maryse's eyes widened, the girls were staring at Eve now, hoping for juicy details.

"How dare me?"

"How dare _me?_ How dare _you_?" Eve fired back. "Is your ego so huge that you'd be more than willing to be a psycho than to just cut your losses? Mike isn't into you anymore. He is past you. Past your cheating, past your lying. That's why he made you give him his key back."

"Who was she with?" Melina inquired, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"It wasn't John, Melina, you can take a deep breath," she replied. "I'm sure Dolph's girlfriend won't be too happy to hear about things, though." Maryse's eyes widened and the Divas turned to her. Eve stood. "I have a match tonight, Maryse. What are you doing?" With that, she stormed out of the locker room, leaving Maryse embarrassed with the other girls.

**X**

Cristina was walking wounded, crying non-stop from sunrise to sunset. She shifted her articles to another writer, citing personal reasons, and took a week off to try and get herself back together, but it wasn't coming easy. Humiliated with herself, she just sat alone on her couch, watching movies, watching the sky fade from light to dark.

The devastation was something she wasn't prepared for. It had crushed her, and now she didn't know which was up. How she was going to recover from this, she had no idea. Doing it alone was a lot harder than she had realized, but she hoped Eve would keep her word and not say anything; after all, she had no idea what to say to Mike if he asked about things. Considering how little she has heard from him and how awkward and stilted their texting has been, she had the strongest feeling that he regretted what happened.

She thought back to Maryse. It made her blood hot. The way she had walked in with a strut, the way she had glared in her face, pinched at her arms, and shoved her around. Knowing that she was a WWE Diva, and borderline abusive to Mike, Cristina realized she should have known that Maryse would get violent with her. But she still didn't see it coming, let alone had time to brace for it. Now, she was alone, sitting in the throes of depression, knowing that Mike would rather stay with a cold-hearted bitch than be with somebody like her. For the first time in a long time, she found herself feeling ugly, lower than pond scum.

**X**

"Mike, we really need to talk."

Eve grabbed him by the crook of his elbow at the end of the night and led him into the empty Divas locker room. Maryse had long since gone out to party with her clique. "What's the matter, Eve? You look upset."

"I am upset," Eve replied. "And you're right. I have been lying to you. Cristina made me promise, but Mike, I can't lie anymore…"

"What's going on?"

"Mike, you'd better sit down." Nodding, he found his seat in a steel folding chair. Eve sat down across from him. "Mike, Maryse found out where Cristina lives."

"What? When did this happen?"

"Last week. She made a stop in to visit Cristina. I have my suspicions about what happened, but Cristina isn't talking about it. But it's weird; Maryse is still talking like you two are together. Am I missing something?"

"No. We're done."

"I think she gave the opposite impression on Cristina." Mike ran his hand through his hair. Of course that's why Cristina didn't want to talk to him. He'd have to explain things to her when he got home. Eve sighed. "I need to tell you this, too, Mike. I have some really, really bad news. Cristina didn't want me to say anything, but you need to know."

"What else is there?" Mike asked, never looking up.

"Cristina got pregnant."

Mike looked up, eyes wide. "What?" He ran his hands through his hair. "Why…why didn't she say anything?"

"She's not pregnant anymore, Mike. She, uh…she suffered a miscarriage last week. I'm so sorry." Mike sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. Eve wiped the tears away from her eyes.

"Why didn't she say anything?"

"You quit speaking to her. Maryse gave her the impression that she was the other woman. She didn't want to make trouble." Mike was overwhelmed; there was no other way to describe it. Eve had given him some huge news, then delivered devastating news right on the heels of it. "It gets worse."

"Oh, God…Eve, stop!" He sighed. "What?"

"I have a strange feeling that Maryse had something to do with the miscarriage."

"Did Maryse know?"

"I can't see how she would. Cristina never would have told me if I hadn't have found the pregnancy test." Mike sighed.

"God, I'm such an idiot."

"No…you aren't. The thing you need to do though is the right thing. Don't let her go through this alone." Mike nodded; his head was in shambles.


	16. Chapter 16

Cristina was surprised to see Mike standing in front of her, his eyes lost and vacant as he stared at her in the doorway. It was clear he had walked over to see her; his hair and clothes were wet from the rain, sticking to every nook and cranny of his skin. "Michael?" She blinked, fastening her robe tighter around her waist.

"Hey, Cristina. I hate to bother you, but I think that you and I... we need to have a talk." Cristina was reluctant, but she stepped to the side and let him in. Her apartment had fallen apart; it wasn't like her. It shocked him. She sighed, her eyes haggard and tired.

"I will grab you a towel," she replied. "You can dry off." He nodded and she disappeared into the bathroom, coming back with a white towel. He sat down on the couch. "Eve told you things, did she not?"

"She did," Mike confirmed. "Along with a few other things. Cristina, why didn't you tell me that Maryse had come here?"

"I didn't want to burden you. Anyway, Maryse said…"

"She's lying." Mike didn't bother letting her finish her statement. "She's lying. We broke up after I found out about her cheating. I made her move out, leave the keys behind. Why she's doing what she's doing, I have no idea." He sighed. "Cristina, Eve thinks that Maryse had something to do with what happened to you. Is that true?" Cristina averted her gaze. He didn't need for her to say anything; it was all right there in front of him. He swallowed his rage. "So it is true. Why did you tell her you blacked out and fell?"

"Please…this…it is hard. I am still in devastation."

"_You're _in devastation? Imagine how I felt finding out I was going to be a dad…and then finding out in that same second that I'm not going to be? And that you couldn't tell me this? I had to find it out from Eve freaking Torres!"

"Can you blame me? You stopped talking to me after…" He sighed; she had a point.

"Look, I'm sorry about that. And it wasn't anything to do with you. I should have told you that sooner." He ran his hands through his hair, taking a deep sigh of frustration. "It was a weird time. I don't regret what happened, but I regret that I took advantage of you like that."

"You did not," she replied, a sad smile stretching across her beautiful features.

"I felt that way, though. I put you in the middle of something that you had no business being in the middle of. How Maryse found out about what happened between us is beyond me, or if she just decided to pop off on you about her assumptions. But I'm sorry this had to happen to you." He leaned forward, hugging her close to him. "I'm here now, Cristina, and I promise you're not alone in this."

**X**

In the middle of the night, Cristina awakened, surprised to see Mike still there, sleeping beside her. It had been an emotionally draining night and after she had finished crying, After watching a movie together curled up on the couch, Mike decided to spend the night. Now, here they were just curled up together. Nothing had happened between the two of them; tonight it was just about finding comfort in tragedy.

They had watched movies; chatted about where they wanted things to go between the two of them. Mike assured her repeatedly that Maryse was a liar. Cristina believed him, but the image of Maryse, who seemed so much more glamorous and larger than life than she was, haunted her. She was pretty sure it would haunt her for a long time.

**X**

Mike woke up at the crack of dawn to find that Cristina was gone. He sat up, deducing she was already up and awake in the living room or something; after all, she wouldn't just get up and leave her own apartment. Sliding his shirt on over his boxer shorts, he made his way out into the living room, spotting her standing out on her small rickety balcony, dressed in her robe and slippers. A soft smile tugging at his face, he walked out onto the balcony. She turned to face him.

"You're awake early."

"I had a hard time sleeping," she confessed. She sighed. "When I came to America; I never thought things would become so…um, so…"

"Complicated?"

"_Si_." She groaned, running a hand through her hair as she leaned on the rickety railing. "I just want to be successful. To live a quiet, normal life. It is not easy."

"If it's any consolation, if I had known that things were going to be so crazy when I met you…ah, hell, what am I kidding, I still would have talked to you. Are you kidding? I spotted you halfway down the street."

"I was having the worst day of my life so far," Cristina confessed, a smirk on her face. "You showed up like a guardian angel. Helped me find my way. I will never forget that for as long as I live."

"That's pretty awesome," Mike replied, putting his arms around her. "How are you feeling this morning. Did you have a nightmare?" She nodded. Mike had a sneaking suspicion that Maryse had left her haunted and traumatized. He didn't want to keep drudging it up, though; she was still reeling from the entire concept of being pregnant and losing the baby all in the span of a week. Almost two months along.

"I will be okay," she assured him. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"I know you will."


	17. Epilogue

Life went by a little smoother for Mike and Cristina after their talk on Cristina's couch. After several months of being careful, taking things slow, Mike finally popped the big question, asking Cristina to move in with him, leaving behind the little apartment she had become attached to. She had been a little reluctant, worried about how things would play out, but she was practically staying with him so much that it only seemed practical. Eve and John Morrison had given up some valuable time to come out and help them move.

Maryse was still attempting a reconciliation with Mike, and as jealous as it made Cristina, she trusted Mike at his word when he said he wanted nothing more to do with the French-Canadian Diva. Eventually, she gave up, moving onto Dolph Ziggler, who had broken up with his girlfriend to be with her. Mike didn't care; whatever kept her off of his and Cristina's case was all right by him.

Sometimes Cristina would travel with Mike to some shows in the area and in his hometown, where she met his family. They had all pulled Mike aside and let him know that Cristina was a huge improvement over Maryse and to never let her slip through his fingers. Backstage, Cristina was pretty well liked by the Divas, with exception of Maryse and her little clique.

Professionally, Cristina was doing well. Her Within Temptation interview had gone so well that she had received an offer from Kerrang! magazine. She didn't think twice about taking the opportunity, knowing full well it only meant big things for her in the long run. It hurt her to leave the publication where she got her start, but she never forgot about the huge opportunities they had given her so shortly after she had arrived, and she made it clear to her boss, who understood what a huge opportunity it was for her.

Next year, Cristina and Mike were going to Italy. She had decided to take him to meet her family. A huge part of her couldn't wait to see the look on Andrea's face when Mike showed up on his doorstep with her. Her mother was pleased to hear that she had found herself a man, and was already asking details about the wedding, about when she was going to receive grandkids. She never told her about the miscarriage; and with the exception of Mike and Eve, she never told anybody about it. The trauma was still there, but as time went on, she began to feel better and better about things.

Eve Torres got engaged to her boyfriend; Cristina was set to be a bridesmaid at the nuptials, whenever they set a date. It was exciting. Mike was glad to see that more and more, Cristina was coming out of her shell. It wasn't long before Cristina went out with the girls and had fun. But, in a way that was a stark contrast to Maryse, she actually texted Mike if she was going to be late, or if she went somewhere different. She was always home by at least one to curl up with him in bed, where she always seemed to sleep peacefully beside him.

Life at Kerrang! magazine was great once she arrived. She had gotten to interview a lot of hard rock/gothic/symphonic/death metal bands and people considered her to be somebody who "got it" when it came to music criticism. Her pay had spiked, her taste in music had expanded, and it seemed like life couldn't get any sweeter.

So why was she standing in the bathroom, pacing a trench in the floor?

"_Si poetrebbe pensare che ho imparato la lezione l'ultima volta_," Cristina murmured under her breath. She gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Well-rested, nice and tanned, Cristina saw some muscle was beginning to form from all the jogging she did with Mike. She continued to pace. "_Dio, io sono cosi stupido_!" she called out. Mike was on the road; he wouldn't be home until Tuesday; she still had another two days to wait for him.

Two more minutes. She continued to pace. Mike was doing well, still a humble man who had no idea that he would ever make it as big as he did. She liked to watch him on the television every week, laughing at his brash statements and cheering him on against his opponents. Life was wonderful; it was beautiful. The best part was that everything was happening to her.

Mike surprised her from time to time with things on his travels. He brought her back some beautiful things from France and Scotland. But she never asked for anything, nor did she expect it. She had a sneaking suspicion that Mike appreciated that, and just got to enjoy doing things because he wanted to, not because he had to make up for something.

One minute.

The wait was excruciating. And with every second that passed, it just felt like eternity. On and on it went. Finally, she was down to the last ten seconds and it went by like minutes at a time. When the ten seconds were up, she picked up the pregnancy test off of the bathroom counter and took a look.


End file.
